


The Price of Betrayal

by Istuineth



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Chloe KNOWS, Dan and Ella find out, F/M, Family Dynamics, Hurt/Comfort, Justice, No Beta, Punishment, Redemption, Siblings, The glass doesn’t break, This Is Sparta, We Die Like Men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:02:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 74,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23536483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Istuineth/pseuds/Istuineth
Summary: Chloe Decker is many things. A mother, a daughter, a detective. Now as she stares into Lucifer’s wide brown eyes, the pupils blown as the sedative works its way into his system, the look of confusion and hurt and agony in his gaze sends a wave of ice spearing into her heart sharper than Maze’s knives. As she watches his glass slip from his fingers as he falls to the floor, barely catching himself as he struggles to breathe, struggles to stay awake, struggles to understand how she could do this, Chloe Decker becomes a betrayer, a liar, and damned.
Relationships: Amenadiel & Linda Martin (Lucifer TV), Chloe Decker & Lucifer Morningstar, Mazikeen & Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV)
Comments: 522
Kudos: 837
Collections: LUCIFER_FICS_





	1. Liar, Liar

**Author's Note:**

> After binge watching Lucifer on Netflix, and gorging myself on various fics within the fandom, this little piece has steadily been growing within my mind.

Chloe’s hand was shaking as she pours the vial into Lucifers’ glass. Her breath leaves her lungs in a rush as she swirls the glass to mix the sedative in, to hide the layer of liquid on top of the wine and settles back on her haunches, her heart thundering in her veins. The music flares to life as she settles back and she jumps, but offers what she hopes is a convincing smile as Lucifer—

_The actual Devil, Satan himself, she had kissed the devil!_

wanders back in, a light skip in his step as he settles down across from her, his eyes twinkling with—

_Fire, his eyes were living flames and she could imagine the heat of damnation!_

Mirth and joy as he looks at her, his eyes softening to something kinder, gentler as he speaks, but she can’t hear the words that come from his lips and all she can see—

_Red skin, it’s the first thing her brain manages to think about. Red and scarred and black and ragged like his skin had melted and bile rises in her throat and she chokes on it as she backs away, struggling to understand, struggling not to understand what she’s seeing with this monster standing over Pierce’s body and she can’t stop seeing!_

His lips pulling into a gentle smile as he gazes at her with soft adoration and raises the glass into the air and offers her a toast, his words have gone over her head, she can’t even remember what he said over the roaring in her ears and she prays to God—

_“Daddy issues you know?”_

_“Oh he has nothing to do with this”_

_“Could you please not bring him into this?”_

That Lucifer won’t notice how her hand still holding the glass trembles as she raises it to her lips, only daring to drink once she sees his throat bob as he takes a few large swallows and she finally takes a larger sip of her own to steady her breathing. She sets the glass down and looks at her partner—

_The fear pounding through her veins as she hides makes her palms sweat, Malcolm and Lucifer standing off and Trixie, her baby is in here somewhere and that bastard is a threat and the shot rings out and she hears his body hit the floor, she sees the pool of blood growing and horror sweeps through her, her partner is down, her partner who followed her to save her daughter._

_“You were dead!”_

_“Well yes I was, but then I got better.”_

His smile slips from his face slowly as his vision begins to grow blurry around the edges and he looks at his Detective in concern, at first thinking the bottle was poisoned and prepared to fight it off to try and save her before she drinks only to realize she’s staring at him… expectantly and his concern is washed away and replaced by confusion and agony as her betrayal begins to sink in.

_The hospital room is overly bright as she wakes up, her eyes drawn to the man sitting in the chair at her bedside, clothes slightly rumpled and eyes only a little bloodshot, but his smile is radiant as he beams at her._

_“Well you didn’t die! That makes one of us!”_

The glass tumbles from his hand and shatters on the table, wine like blood spilling across the table and dripping slowly over the edge. His hand snaps out as his world tips sideways, he lands on his forearm and looks at her, _really_ looks at her, as if seeing her for the first time. His brown eyes are blown wide, pupils dilated as the poison works through his blood. He looks over her face, beautiful and framed by blonde hair, but finally he notices what he forced himself to ignore. The terror and panic captured within blue eyes, the way her hands shake from the force of her anxiety, but the grim determination shown in the tight line of her lips.

Finally he lets himself look at her. His own eyes wide with his confusion, horror, and despair. 

Her betrayal sinks in but all he can feel is hatred for himself, disgust _for himself_ for not realizing sooner that she could never love the monster. His vision begins to grow dim and he can’t hold himself up anymore, falling to the ground and letting out a groan as pain constricts his chest, his heart breaking as his reality washes over him.

The woman he loved betraying him. 

Lying to him.

He closes his eyes, trying to ignore the searing pain that threatens to overwhelm him as that knowledge sinks in.

“Why…?”

His voice is weak, his breaths growing more ragged as he struggles to take in air.

Chloe watches him, trembling in fear that this is another trick, he’s the Prince of Darkness, Father of Lies, the Deceiver—

_“I. Am. Not. A liar!”_

_“It’s the truth! You know I don’t lie, Detective!”_

_“I don’t make anyone do anything! Yet I’m always blamed for the actions of others.”_

She looks at him as his eyes close and his breathing grows ever more ragged and chokes out her simple truth.

“Because I’m terrified!”

The sound that passes from his lips is part cough, and part laughter. There is no joy, no amusement, only anger in the harsh, choked sound. He makes no other attempt to speak as he finally succumbs to the poison and falls limp, his chest still heaving in ragged breaths that sound wet, and a trickle of blood drips from the corner of his mouth.

Chloe stands on shaky legs and pulls out her phone, her fingers trembling and tears blurring her vision as she dials the number.

It only rings once.

“Father Kinley? It’s me, Chloe. It worked…”

She hangs up once the priest assures her he’s on his way and gives her another instruction to clear a large area for the ritual, and looks at the limp figure of her partner, former, she reminds herself firmly, former partner, and lets out a shaky breath and tries to ignore the growing guilt and doubt. 

He’s the devil. He’s evil.

She stamps down the remorse, ignores the doubt, and turns to moving his furniture off to the edge of the room to wait for the priest's arrival.


	2. Blood on the Horizon

When the darkness faded, his pain exploded. 

Lucifer sucked in a ragged breath, the bitter tang of copper on his tongue as he sucked in air. His chest felt tight, too tight, burning with agony. He shook his head, trying to clear the fog from his brain to focus on the blurry figures in front of him. His entire body  _ ached  _ and wave after wave of searing heat tore through his body as the fog lifted and he raised his head, finally gathering his wits about him.

His chest was bare, his shirt laying carelessly off to the side with tears near the shoulders. They must have cut it off. His hands were above his head, chained together and suspended from a hook in the ceiling. He cast his gaze upwards, glaring balefully at the hook and spat blood in the direction of the two figures. His breathing was still unsteady and the pain in his heart only increased to a roaring crescendo when his brain caught up to  _ who _ was standing in front of him but he slammed those feelings of betrayal into the furthest corner of his mind, the corner that still housed his rage and fear at his Fall, the corner of his mind he  _ never intended to look at  _ and offered a weak sneer at his audience. His words slightly slurred as the effects of the poison ravage him.

“You know those hooks were meant for something more enjoyable.”

Chloe turned her head away, unable to stomach looking at him, his chest heaving and blood dripping from his mouth. The insane glint in his eyes that he normally reserved for some of their harder criminals.

_ ‘He’s evil, he’s evil, he’s evil’ _

She kept repeating the mantra in her head, hoping beyond all hope she could convince herself her actions were necessary. It wasn’t her partner, it was  _ the actual devil _ .

A small voice in her head whispered that they were one and the same.

Father Kinley stepped forward, rosary in hand as he held it aloft in the face of the devil, his face stern and cold.

“Silence, Satan! You will not poison our hearts and souls with your evil will any longer!”

Lucifer sneered at the priest, focusing his attention on the old man, forcing himself to ignore the Dete—  _ the woman _ standing off to the side of the priest. His muscles ached and the poison still tore its way through his body, try as he might he could not break the chains that bound him.

“Really Padre, is that the best you—“

Father Kinley lashed out, the glint of steel flashing in the lights of the penthouse as the priest tore the blade across Lucifers chest in a deep, diagonal cut. Tearing through skin and muscle as blood surged forth, dripping from the wound to the floor. A crudely drawn circle of salt with Latin closed the three of them inside, the salt image of a star turned to a deep crimson beneath his feet as it greedily drank the devil's blood.

“I assure you Beast, I have the power and direction of the Almighty Father to send you from whence you came!”

Lucifer panted, his eyes flashing with rage as he stared into the dull eyes of the priest. He did not scream as the knife tore through his skin, but even he couldn’t stop the pained hiss that escaped.

“Sorry to break it to you Padre, but I’m not welcome at home, the whole rebellion thing and whatnot.”

Chloe turned her head away, foot bouncing on the ground as her fingers tapped out a nervous rhythm on her arm.

_ ‘He’s evil, he’s evil, he’s evil’ _

Father Kinley raised the knife again, swiping in the opposite direction, making the first point of a star on Lucifer’s chest.

“Lies! You are the Devil! You are the source of all Evil on earth and you have come to rain ruin and damnation upon the innocent! You are no angel of God!”

A third line joined the mutilated flesh, the priest digging the knife in deeper this time, the blade scraping bone and Lucifer couldn’t contain his scream as white hot agony rocked through his body. He thrashed against the bonds as best he could, his scream cut short as he dissolved into choking coughs, blood spewing from his mouth.

The crimson star beneath his feet grew darker.

Lucifer's eyes darkened with fury and searing pain as unfurled his wings, growing more determined to escape the chains and the priest and his—

His eyes shift to the woman, beautiful even in her terror. His wings, brilliant and vibrant are splayed behind him, but they don’t move as he focuses on  _ her. _

The pain of her betrayal cuts him deeper than the knife could ever hope. The ends of his feathers droop to the ground, blood soaking into the tips of the nearest wings, stained. Marred.

_ The first woman he ever loved tried to kill him _ .

The thought causes him to falter.

“Deceiver! You dare take on a mockery of the Lords’ work!”

The priest digs the knife into the nearest wing and  _ rips _ it down, tearing through deceptively delicate bones and sinews and tendons and this,  _ this _ , brings Lucifer back as he  _ roars  _ in agony and pain, the other wing thrashing wildly as the injured one drops and lays limply, as blood spreads through the white feathers rapidly.

“You’d make a good demon, Padre. A good torturer”

The star beneath his feet is nearly black as the priest cuts the fourth line into his chest, blood covering his front and his pants cling to his legs, soaked with it.

Father Kinley raises the blood soaked knife and makes the fifth, and deepest cut across Lucifers’ chest, bits of skin and muscle hang on where the cuts intersect, the edges are ragged and blood continues to pour from the wounds.

Chloe feels like she’s ready to vomit staring at the mangled form of her— of the  _ devil _ .

_ He’s your partner, he’s your  _ **_friend_ ** .

She shakes her head and stifles a sob into her hands, closing her eyes and praying to God to just let this be over with.

_ He trusted you! _

Lucifer opens his eyes, the edges of his vision still blurry as he focuses on the trembling form of Chloe Decker, and his heart breaks again. The one woman he trusted to never hurt him. The woman who was immune to his powers, the woman who  _ made him vulnerable and allowed this to happen. _

Even now, even as she stands there  _ watching him be tortured _ , he loves her. 

In that moment he hates himself more than ever.

The blood drips from his wounds to the floor, the priest brings the blade to his other wing and destroys it just as he has the other. This is worse than severing them completely. The shredded muscles and tendons pulled down by the weight of his wings, threatening to tear yet enough flesh is still connected to hold them up.

Useless to use but still  _ there _ .

Lucifer lifts his head, eyes glinting with malice as he stares at the priest, cursing himself for letting  _ her _ distract him, curses himself for hesitating.

Curses himself because he cannot bring himself to end one more life.

The blood on his hands from Uriel and Cain is enough as it is.

Father Kinley smiles, and the benevolent expression is a mockery of visage of a kind old man.

“My child you must be strong, we are nearly there. We will return him to hell soon, where he belongs.”

He gave her an encouraging pat on the back and pulled out an old leather bound book, flipping to a marked page and began chanting in Latin.

Lucifer let out a bitter laugh, teeth stained red with his blood as he coughed up more blood onto the floor. 

Chloe closed her eyes, trying to stop the flood of tears in vain. 

_ ‘Please God let this be over soon’ _

Lucifer kept his eyes on Chloe, ignoring the priest and the burning pain throughout his body. Nothing was left for him here anyway, Mazikeen was estranged from him, Amenadiel would be happy that his mission was accomplished in the end. 

The woman he loved would be free of him as she so clearly wished.

Father Kinley raised the knife as his voice grew to a shout and stepped forward, bringing the knife down to strike at Lucifer’s heart.

The sound of wings filled the air as a hand snapped out and grabbed the priests arm just as the blade kissed flesh and a single drop of blood welled up.

Emerald eyes filled with fury framed by brown locks set in a pale face. Tawny wings like an owl splayed behind a lithe figure as the iron grip tightened and the  _ snap _ of bone was heard. Father Kinley let go of the blade with a cry of pain as he fell to his knees.

Lucifer sucked in a breath as brown met emerald, his breath coming out as a word, filled with confusion, pain, and tentatively, hope.

_ “Gabriel” _

The archangel did not glance at his brother, bound in chains but glared sternly down at the mortal priest in front of him, tossing him aside with ease. Kinley crashed into the wall with a muffled groan and fell to the floor, eyes wild with fear and confusion.

Gabriel turned to the mortal woman, his emerald eyes narrowing and he took a step forward, coming to a stop in front of her, her terrified blue eyes meeting his as panic gripped her heart.

“Hark unto thee the words of the Almighty! I am Gabriel, messenger and herald of God. Your prayer, Chloe Decker, will be answered.”

She could only gape at the angel who stood before her, shaking her head slowly and stepping back.

“I-I don’t understand I just want this to be over—“

Gabriel grabbed her wrist, much the same as he did with the priest but didn’t break it. His eyes flashing with cold fury.

“It will be.”

He shoved her to the side and she stumbled back, dropping to the floor near the fallen priest.

Kinley stood in anger, struggling to his feet and stepping forward.

“You are no angel! You’re another demon! I am doing Gods work ridding the world of—“

Gabriel didn’t spare him a glance, merely snapping a wing out to knock the priest backwards once more as he reaches up to snap the chains from the ceiling, catching his brother in his arms carefully, resting their foreheads together as Lucifer chokes down his cry of pain.

“Of his son? You know nothing of our Fathers' plans mortal. You know nothing of my brother.”

Lucifer sagged against Gabriel’s side, the pain over taking him as his knees collapse under his weight.

Gabriel catches him gently, flaring his wings out as he puts an arm under Lucifer's shoulders, knowing his brother won’t want to be carried in front of his betrayers. Gabriel raises his glare level on the human woman, disgust clear in his face.

With nothing more to say Gabriel strode to the balcony, half carrying half dragging his nearly unconscious brother behind him. With a flap of his wings and a gust of air, he disappeared.

Chloe Decker let her head fall into her hands as she sobbed, tears pouring down her face as she let out a strangled whimper.

“What have I done!?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this as I’m falling asleep, may revise later. Let me know what you think!


	3. Salt in the Wounds

As Gabriel left the penthouse, he shifted his brother in his arms to carry him carefully. He felt more than heard the muffled groan against his shoulder and his heart clenched at the sound. Samael had always been one of the strongest of their siblings, to hear such a weak sound pass his lips… cold fury seared through his heart and he seethed as he pondered the mistake of not bringing Michael along.

Estranged though they may, Michael would be furious with the state of his Twin. 

Michael would see to it that those mortals learned the full meaning of ‘the Wrath of God’ before he was done with them.

Resolved to bring Michael into the fold soon, Gabriel turned his attention back to his destination, focusing on the presence of the only other angel currently in LA. Samael would need more than just one angel to heal the damage to his wings.

Gabriel landed gently in front of the house of Doctor Linda Martin, walking sedately up to the door and gently letting Samael’s feet touch the ground, without loosening his tight supportive grip around his shoulders. The once radiant white wings were stained crimson to the point of appearing black, and Gabriel’s heart broke with the horror of their situation.

He couldn’t even imagine the agony Samael must be feeling.

He knocked loudly with his free hand, closing his eyes and praying to his brother as an extra measure.

_ ‘Amenadiel.’ _

Two sets of footsteps approached the door, one slower and heavier than the other, and the second fast and deceptively light.

The door swung open and Gabriel looked into the face of his older brother, his expression pained as he shouldered the weight of Samael.

“Amenadiel I need your help…”

The Firstborn took stock of the situation, horror and despair crossing his face before he reached out and took Samael from his arms, gently rushing him inside to an empty table and resting him on it as carefully as he would a newborn. 

Gabriel stepped into the home, surveying the dark wood furnishings and comfortable air before turning his sights on the mortal woman, taking in her disheveled blonde hair and skewed glasses and offered her a comforting, if weak, smile.

“Hello, I am Gabriel.”

Linda sucked in a breath before nodding, her eyes wide as she looked between the three brothers, struggling to take in the presence of yet another angel.

“Right, yes, hello. Linda Martin, what happened to Lucifer?” She shook her head and turned to the prone figure on her dining room table, taking in the blood and… holy fuck the  _ blood! _ “Oh dear G— holy shit!” She turns on her heel, dismissing the archangel and going to the opposite side of the table looking over the wounds in growing horror. “Oh Lucifer...”

Amenadiel looked at Linda, his eyes softening as he shook his head.

“Linda, I need you to get as many towels as you can, and two bowls of water. Gabriel and I can deal with the wounds. We’ll also need some alcohol and… well just bring your first aid kit and a needle.”

Linda looked at him, her blue eyes wide with shock before nodding shakily and rushing off to do as he asked. Gabriel took her place, teeth gritting in anger as he finally allowed himself to  _ look _ at what his brother endured.

The slashes on his chest were the most obvious , jagged lines of ripped flesh, each cut getting deeper as the priest went on. On the left side of his chest, bits of bone could be seen through the mangled mess. Each breath he took care with a hiss of pain and Lucifer turned his head, groaning quietly as he struggled to open his eyes and focus through the pain. His eyes cracked open just enough to see Gabriel once again standing over him and offered a weak smile.

“Well little brother... it’s been a while…” Lucifer cuts off as he chokes, turning his head aside as he coughs, blood spraying from his lips and he closes his eyes in pain.

Amenadiel puts a hand on his shoulder gently, waiting for Lucifer to turn his head back and look at him, his dark eyes filled with concern.

“The damage to your chest shouldn’t be causing internal bleeding Luci, I need you to tell me what happened. I can’t help you if you don’t.”

Lucifer let out a wet chuckle, spurring another round of bloody coughs as he sags back against the table, hissing at the weight pushing down on his wings but too weak to shift to his side. The sound he makes is filled with his hurt.

“What happened?... well…. I made dinner, lit some candles, poured some wine.” He chokes out a broken laugh, closing his eyes and trying to stop the sudden flood of tears, “Oh yes, the wine. The bloody wine! The Detective apparently wasn’t… wasn’t happy with my selection so she poured a little something  _ extra _ into it while I was gone.” Lucifer gives another choked laugh that turns into a stifled sob as he closes his eyes tightly, turning his head away.

Amenadiel stares at his little brother in shock, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“ _ Chloe _ did this?! Why?”

But Lucifer only shakes his head, too exhausted to speak more and closes his eyes, letting the darkness consume him and finding only relief as numbness overtakes his weary body.

Gabriel reaches out, touching Amenadiel’s hand and raising his eyes to meet his older brothers.

“She was working with a priest to banish Lucifer to Hell. Permanently. The ritual was never going to work but that mortal's  _ betrayal _ was all they really needed.” His voice is soft, and deadly.

Amenadiel shakes his head staring at his hands, confusion and grief warring within his mind. He takes a deep, settling breath and forces his mind to focus. His brother needed him, not revenge. He needed help. He needed—

Amenadiel’s head snaps up and he grips Gabriel’s arm. 

“We need Raphael. If Luci is poisoned he needs help that I don’t know how to give. We need her.”

Gabriel nods and pats his brother's hand reassuringly. 

“I’ll return with her shortly. Do your best with the wounds you can heal.”

With that Gabriel steps back and is gone, a burst of wind rustling the curtains and some loose papers drift to the floor of the dining room. Linda reappears at that moment, her arms heavily laden with towels and her first aid kit, she sets them down and rushes to the kitchen returning with two bowls of lukewarm water.

Her voice is quiet and shaky as she takes in the form of her patient, laying on her dining room table. Her heart breaks at the sight of the jagged wounds and his mangled wings. She lets out an unsteady breath and clenches her fist.

“Will he be okay Amenadiel?”

Dark eyes look upon the therapist, the vastness of his fury blends with the depth of his confusion and heartbreak. He wants to reassure her, he wants to offer her comfort. Instead all he can do is cover her hand with his and squeeze gently. He picks up a rag and dips it in the first bowl before he begins to wipe the blood from his little brother's chest. 

He thinks about lying, to Linda, to himself. He thinks about what words he can use soothe them both.

The words taste like ash in his mouth and he wets his lips.

Lucifer wouldn’t appreciate the lies.

Amenadiel shakes his head slowly, not taking his eyes from the blood soaked chest. Across from him Linda grabs another rag and begins to mirror his movements, her hand shaking but infinitely gently as she cleans the blood away. 

They work in silence as Amenadiel ponders how to answer. It could have been a few minutes or an hour as they worked in silence, but finally the words leave him as he finally acknowledges the bitter truth. His voice is soft, remorseful as he works to help his little brother. 

“I don’t know…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! This remains unbeta’d so far, I’m mostly just typing up what I come up with and adding a bit of substance before slapping it all down and updating.


	4. Forgive Me Father For I Have Sinned

Chloe didn’t remember getting home.

She remembered flashes of it. She remembered stumbling to the elevator and walking from the club in a daze.

She remembered Father Kinley shouting at her but she couldn’t remember the words.

She remembered getting in her car, but the streets were a blur. 

Now as she sits on the edge of her couch in front of her T.V, she can’t remember how long it’s been since she poured the vial. She doesn’t remember how long it took for...for _him_ to wake up. For Kinley to start … start the _exorcism._

_‘Torture,’_ Her mind whispers, _‘you watched that priest torture your friend.’_

She shakes her head numbly, trying to dispel the voice.

She doesn’t remember when she starts crying.

She sits in her living room, head in her hands as her tears fall freely, as the sobs rip through her body and she can barely _breathe—_

_She could still see him struggling to breathe as Kinley chains his wrists and hoists him into the air, muttering to himself about disgusting debauchery and the Devils temptations. But all she can hear is his ragged breathing, the blood running from his lips and she thinks, with dawning horror, it may not have_ **_just_ ** _been a sedative the priest gave her._

She hears screaming. She’s dragged from her memories to focus on the piercing screams. She’s worried, and her throat hurts, thinking someone may need help. But they sound muffled and distant as much as they burn her ears.

Belatedly she realizes that she’s the one screaming.

Tears anew flood her eyes and she cuts off her screaming as the sobs over take her again. Her fingernails dig into her arms so hard the skin breaks and blood wells up from crescents. They remind her distantly of tiny bloody moons in the sky and another memory threatens to consume her as she stares at the bloody moons.

_She and Trixie and Lucifer sit on the couch enduring another Disney movie, this one Moana, Trixie’s newest favorite. As the stars light up and the ocean reflects them Trixie squeals in delight, clapping her hands together in delight._

_“Lucifer look at how pretty those stars are!”_

_The club owner snorts and shakes his head, bored with the little movie and gives Trixie a disbelieving stare._

_“You can’t be serious urchin. First of all, those are fake. Second of all, the stars I created are much more beautiful than these silly little animators could ever hope to create.”_

_Chloe rolls her eyes and snorts, disgusted with his metaphors being pushed onto her daughter. This time though she plays along, thinking he’s teasing._

_“I’ve never heard of the Devil creating stars.”_

_The look he gives her is offended and she feels confusion swelling up in her heart at the genuinely hurt look on his face._

_“No, humans don’t tend to give me credit for the things I did, but always accuse me of the things I_ **_don’t_ ** _do. Lucifer quite literally means ‘Lightbringer’ detective, and I assure you, I did not earn that name by doing nothing.”_

_Chloe opens her mouth, dumbfounded, but before she can speak, Lucifers lap is filled with a squealing child as Trixie gushes and begins to throw about a million questions at her partner, and she’s surprised with how easily he comes up with the answers._

_She shakes her head and chalks it up to him having some kind of astronomy hobby and resolves to ask him about it later, turning her attention back to the movie as Trixie and Lucifer move over to the window and he begins giving details about each star Trixie points to. He places a hand on her head and pats it twice, and Chloe smiles at the fond exasperation in his face even as he continues to call her urchin._

Chloe falls to her knees and screams, pounding her fists on the floor in her rage and confusion. 

But it’s no longer directed at the Devil.

How could she have been so stupid?! She _knew_ him. She knew who he was!

He was a good man. He was kind, and gentle, and, and generous! For all he spouted about hating kids he treated hers with a level of respect and patience that frankly most adults she knew would wish for when dealing with their kids.

He saved her life over, and _over again_ and brushed it off like it was nothing!

He was _good_. 

He was violent, and volatile, and he loved breaking as many rules and he never fucking listened—

_‘He started a rebellion against_ **_God_ ** _, it’s not exactly a surprise the Devil breaks rules like a kid in a fucking candy store!’_

Lucifer was her _partner_ and he had told her over and over again who he was. He told the truth even if it meant giving themselves away at an undercover op. He couldn’t fucking lie for _shit_ and she was worried about him being… being…

She sobs and falls limply onto her side, curled up in front of her couch, tugging her knees to her chest sobbing quietly.

And as she lays there, as memories of the past haunt her, she begins to recognize the bitter irony of her life. 

Lucifer was the _actual_ devil and couldn’t lie for shit.

Maze was an _actual_ demon who loved her daughter and told them from the start what she was.

Amenadiel was Lucifers _real_ brother which made him an _actual fucking angel_ and he was the only one that had lied to her.

It wasn’t lost on her that she had done exactly as Lucifer always said humans defaulted to.

_“Humans are so_ **_eager_ ** _to accept a lie at face value, just so they don’t have to face the truth.”_

And she had done just that. Accepted a pretty lie rather than facing the ugly truth.

Chloe didn’t remember how long she lay on the floor of her living room, but as her sobs ebbed and her brain began to function again, the grief still bitter on her tongue, she pulled out her phone with shaking hands and dialed the _last_ person she wanted to talk to, but the first person she knew she had to.

It only took a few rings before there was a voice on the other end of the line.

“Yo Decker, what’s up? Finish your date with Lucifer so soon?”

Chloe closes her eyes, tears falling silently as she takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself.

“Maze…. Maze I messed up, I made a mistake I… I-I”

She dissolved into quiet sobs again as the voice on the other line was silent.

When the demon spoke again, her voice was deadly soft.

“What happened to Lucifer, Decker.”

Chloe sobs and bites her lip until she tastes the blood, gasping through her sobs.

“I-I p-p-put something in his drink a-and I d-didn’t know I was _scared_ and _confused_ and I-I know it was wrong b-but I didn’t know what to do!”

There was a growl on the other end, her voice firmer this time, her rage as tangible and deadly as her knives.

_“Where is Lucifer?!”_

Chloe shook her head crying softly.

“His b-brother Gabriel came and t-took him and I d-don’t know where he went b-but I thought y-you should g-go to him.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone for a long time, but when Mazikeen spoke again, this time there was the promise of never ending pain in her voice.

“You get to live, because I don’t want to hurt the little human by taking away her mom. But when you get to Hell, and don’t worry, you _will_ rot in Hell, I’ll be waiting for you Decker.”

There was a click as the line went dead and Chloe sagged against her couch like a marionette with their strings suddenly cut, tilting her head to the ceiling as choking down her cries.

“What have I done?...”


	5. And God Said Unto Thee...

Gabriel flew into the Silver City in a flurry of feathers and urgency. He didn’t bother to land, instead flying through the city straight to the House of Healing that his sister, Raphael, worked at. Angels and human souls watched him as he flew by, his wings beating furiously against the air as he made his way through the busy streets, he swerved to avoid some of his siblings flying through the air, wincing as he banks to avoid colliding with one of his younger siblings, the blonde angel huffing before flying off as Gabriel continues on.

He lands softly at the doors to the infirmary and swiftly enters, pushing past more celestials as they leave.

“Raphael!”

His sister looks up from her current patient, helping to realign some feathers after she’s finished cleaning a cut on the young angels wing. 

Raphael looks young, as most of their siblings do, about late twenties to early thirties according to human standards. Her skin is a bright shade of mocha and her eyes an even brighter amber color. High cheekbones and an aristocratic nose framed by long straight caramel tresses that hang just below her shoulders. Her smile is wide and kind and her silver wings shimmer in the light as they trail behind her.

The Archangel of healing crosses the last of the distance and pulls her brother into a tight embrace.

“Gabriel! You left so suddenly I was worried! What do you need? Did you clip your wing running into a building here?” 

Gabriel gives her a tight smile, unable to hide the pain in his eyes as he pulls her off to the side, away from prying eyes and ears.

“Raphael, I need you to come with me. Amenadiel asked me—”

Raphael held up a hand, cutting him off. She shoves her other hand into the pocket of her lab coat, her eyes cut to the side and she turns back to her brother, her voice soft and imploring.

“You went to see Amenadiel? On Earth? Is this about why you ran off?”

Gabriel nods and grips her hand, squeezing it tightly as he lets out a breath. His words are softly spoken, trying to prevent eavesdroppers and despite the situation, he cannot contain the joy and awe from his voice.

“Father sent me with a message.”

Amber eyes widen in shock, Raphael’s mouth drops open as she searches for words.

“Father?! He hasn’t sent you to Earth with a message in… I don’t even know how long!”

Gabriel nods solemnly, the joy fading to be replaced by sorrow.

“He… he heard a prayer, and it… it’s complicated but I can explain it all later, or even better Amenadiel can, he knows more than I anyway. I delivered my message and followed my instructions, but Raph, we need you. Amenadiel and I need you. We can’t…” he looks to the side and pulls his sister into a hug, bringing his lips to her ear to whisper the words that he  _ knows _ could set off another rebellion, “ _ Samael _ needs you.”

Her arms tighten around her brother as grief threatens to overwhelm her, hearing the name of the brother nobody has dared to mention since his fall. Her fists clenched at the fabric of her brother's robe and she lets out a long, slow breath. She pulls back, gripping her brother's shoulders, determination a living flame within her gaze.

“Let me grab my bag.”

*~*~*~* 

Mazikeen Smith was a bounty hunter, and a damn good one at that. She was a friend, and a confidant, and while not a  _ nice  _ or necessarily  _ good _ person, she was generally decent to the people she cared about.

Mazikeen the demon was a general, the right hand of the King of Hell, and one seriously pissed off bitch.

She stormed outside of the bar, not bothering to pay for her drinks. When the bouncer approached her to stop her, towering over her by a foot and thick cords of muscles for arms, she threw him over her shoulder and into a table, splinters flying everywhere as the table shattered beneath the bouncer's body and Mazikeen continued forwards.

She snapped her head to the right, approaching a man about to get onto his bike, the engine already roaring. Just as he swings one leg over she grabs him by the back of his leather jacket and hurls him into a wall before she settles herself onto her new bike.

She doesn’t care about the humans yelling at her as she speeds off down the road, moving in and out of traffic and annoying the general populace of LA.

Not that she gives a fuck right now.

Her eyes narrow and her hands tighten on the handles, rage consumes her entire  _ being _ and her hands itch with the urge to carve her anger out onto the face of that stupid  _ bitch _ with her knives. She doesn’t know what happened, she doesn’t really fucking care. All she cares about is the fact that she was fucking right in the very beginning.

_ ‘I should have killed that stupid bitch before he ever grew attached.’ _

Thoughts of her little human flash through her mind and instead of calming her anger, it only stokes the flames of her wrath.

The little human was going to be devastated.

_ Maze was going to **kill** that bitch slowly. _

Her lips pulled back into a snarl as she swerved around a car, reaching out with her knife to carve a deep scratch into the side of the car that nearly hit her. She enjoyed the screams of outrage and disbelief she heard before she sped off, but her thirst for violence wasn’t quenched in the slightest.

She and Lucifer had their falling out. She fucked up trying to help that bastard Cain, and she hurt the little human. She hurt Linda, her best friend.

When Decker had returned and Trixie had forgiven her, she thought she could start patching things up. She  _ thought _ they could all move on, that they could all  _ fix _ what had been broken and even grow  _ closer _ now that Decker knew.

Maze let out another scream of rage as she pushed the bike to go even fast, trying to hone in on the flicker of light in her mind that signaled where her former King was.

You don’t forget millennia of training and… and  _ fuck _ of friendship in a few short years.

She may have ‘quit’ being his bodyguard officially, but the bond between them was impossible to really break. It would take God himself severing their connection before either of them could truly break free.

This bond though wasn’t one Lucifer was ever keen to be free  _ of  _ though.

Maze was one of the first demons to side with him, one of the first to support him, even in his early days.

She was the first and  _ only _ demon to have ever gained his trust and it  _ hadn’t  _ been fucking easy.

Lucifer Morningstar was a messy ball of Daddy Issues, insecurities, debauchery, and fun. He was viciously protective of those he cared for, and it was normally difficult to keep his attention long enough for him to even deem you somewhat worthy of caring about.

Chloe Decker has gotten her fucking hooks into him too fast, and even when Decker cut the strings, her hooks remained in him, tearing at him. Like a fucking fish out of water on a pole. Take it out of the water and cut the line, the fish dies slowly. Toss it back into the water with the hook, the fish doesn’t even fucking realize it’s dying.

No matter what he did, Decker refused to believe him. When she finally saw past his playboy facade, when she finally began to understand, she would turn a blind eye and dismiss the  _ real _ Lucifer and willingly fall for his mask. If only so she didn’t have to change her opinion too much.

Maze stopped her bike outside of Linda’s house, barging in through the door, sniffing and following the scent of blood - _ so much damn blood she’s nearly choking on it -  _ to the dining room, finding Amenadiel and Linda carefully attending to the wounds on Lucifers chest. The blood is mostly cleaned off and Amenadiel has a needle in his hand, with thread going in and out, in and out of the jagged flesh trying to piece it back together like some macabre jigsaw puzzle. His wings are still bleeding sluggishly, the flesh still partially torn. They hadn’t had time to see to them yet.

Mazikeen takes in the sight of blood, the bloody pants now cut into ribbons and left unceremoniously on the ground. The bowls of pink water off to the side, Linda’s tiny hands shaking as she keeps washing away the blood as Amenadiel keeps making his stitches. Each slice is about a foot and a half long. The entire thing stretches from shoulder to shoulder, down to his navel. Amenadiel is only on the first of five gashes.

_ The giant fucking pentagram on his chest. _

Dark eyes flash dangerously as she lets out an inhuman growl, her chest vibrating with the sound.

“I’ll kill that bitch slowly.”

Amenadiel glances up at her, his eyes tired, weary, but stern. This is Amenadiel the Firstborn, and Amenadiel that will brook no argument and expects to be obeyed.

“You will not. You’re going to grab a needle and start on his other side. We need to get him closed up as soon as possible.”

Below them Lucifer groans and turns his head, spitting up more blood into a bowl Linda has placed there expressly for this purpose. Brown eyes crack open and he offers a weak smile to his demon.

“Mazi...keen…”

Maze stares at him, gritting her teeth and clenching her knives. 

She  _ aches _ to make that bitch  _ scream. _

“Why is he coughing up blood?”

She moves to the side by Linda, grabbing a needle and starts trying to sew the jagged bits of flesh together. Amenadiel is gentle and his stitches even as he tries to stitch his brother back together.

Maze has no patience for that and her stitches are longer and jagged. She knows in the end Lucifer would just want it  _ done _ and not drawn out.

Linda places a hand on Maze’s shoulder, the blonde therapists’ voice shakes as she looks down at Lucifer, who is once more fading into darkness.

“She put something in his wine, as far as Amenadiel and I can figure out, it’s causing him trouble breathing and maybe internal hemorrhaging. But we don’t…. I’m not  _ that _ kind of doctor! And Amenadiel wouldn’t know either. We’re waiting for their brother Gabriel to return with… Raphael I think her name was. Apparently she’s a healer.”

Amenadiel glances up from his stitching and gives Linda a tight lipped smile, his eyes creased with worry.

“She’s  _ the  _ healer. Archangel of healing. She knows pretty much everything that can go wrong and how to fix it.”

There the rustle of wind and papers flying, feathers fluttering to the ground as two figures appear. The dark skinned woman steps forward, her argent wings folding behind her to avoid knocking over any furniture. She gives her older brother a tight lipped smile, before turning a warm compassionate gaze on the mortal woman, smiling reassuringly.

“My brother Amenadiel is too kind. Humans have discovered quite a lot on their own, some things even surprising me.”

Her amber eyes assess the demon standing protectively over her fallen brother, and her smile is no less kind and understanding.

Mazikeen wants to punch that smile off of her pretty little face.

“One of the Lilim no doubt. Be not afraid, demon, I come to heal my brother Samael.”

Maze bares her teeth and fingers one of her knives.

”I’m not afraid of _you_!” Her voice drips with deadly intent. Her body aches to lash out, to wipe the smile from the angel’s face with a fist. Or her knife. Or both.

Definitely both.

Gabriel scowls at the demon and steps closer to his sister, standing just to the left of her shoulder, ready to take down the insolent wretch.

”You will watch your tone demon!”

Amenadiel rubs at the bridge of his nose, pinching his eyes shut.

”Brother, peace. Maze, calm down. Now is not the time!”

Below them Lucifer groans at the name and mutters something in his sleep. It sounds suspiciously like a curse.

Without waiting for further discussion, or rather further posturing, Raphael pushes her way past Amenadiel and begins surveying the wounds on his chest. Her gaze moves to Lucifers mouth and she touches a finger to his lips, pulling it down to assess his gums. She takes careful note of the blood that trickles from his mouth and her eyes harden.

“He’s been poisoned. Something strong enough to affect Samael narrows down the options.”

Mazikeen snarls and slams her hands onto the table, leaning forward into the archangels face, her smile is predatory, her teeth bared in threat.

“Yea, a fucking  _ human _ that made him weak enough to affect him. But she’s gone far enough away that he should be fine so  _ why isn’t he fine?!” _

To her credit, Raphael doesn’t so much as flinch, her attention still focused on her brothers prone form as she begins running her hands over his wounds, eyeing the glimpses of what she can see as far as the damage to his wings is concerned.

“Peace, Lilim. I will find what it is, but I would suspect a mixture of this plane’s most deadly poisons. Most likely in large concentrations.” She closed her eyes and placed both hands on top of Lucifer's chest by his lungs. Seconds tick by before her hands begin to glow ever so faintly. Mazikeen shifts her weight around, her eyes focused intently on the archangels face. 

Raphael snaps her head up with a curse, her eyes wide in shock as she runs a hand through her hair.

“Whoever did this wasn’t playing around. The poison they gave him was a mixture of Batrachotoxin and Ricin, some of the most deadly poisons on earth, both naturally occurring. Ricin is plant based whereas Batrachotoxin comes from miniature frogs and certain species of birds in tropical areas. From the amount I’m assuming he’s ingested, it would have killed a human in minutes. Even a single drop of Ricin is fatal to mortals after 48 hours. Batrachotoxin is a paralytic, it affects all areas of the body, organ failure is what normally kills humans who come into contact with it.”

She cannot tear her gaze away from her brothers face, something hard and steely entering her eyes.

“Whoever put that poison together obviously didn’t want to take a chance of the small dosage. I’ll need to begin healing him from the poison as soon as possible. Amenadiel, Lilim, you two continue stitching his chest. Gabriel? I need you to help the human woman with water and towels. When you’re done with the chest turn him over and start cleaning his wings but  _ do not _ attempt to heal them until I can assess them in more detail.”

Her eyes flashed with liquid fire as she stared each one down, getting a nod in return before turning back to her patient. The authority she spoke with was that of a general commanding their troops. They were to obey without questions. Her authority was unquestionable. Disobedient soldiers would not be tolerated.

Mazikeen licked her lips and smiled. There was less teeth, but it was by no means less predatorial.

She may end up liking this sibling of his.

Raphael turned back to the task at hand, laying one hand on Samael’s forehead, the other on his stomach. She took a deep, steadying breath and bowed her head, closing her eyes. Her hands began to glow again, golden light like molten sun trapped between her brothers flesh and her hands.

Lucifer’s healing had just begun.


	6. The Unforgiven

The darkness surrounding Lucifer was unfamiliar.

Lucifer _knew_ the darkness of Hell. The very air of Hell was filled with more than just ash and sulfur. It was oppressive. Suffocating. Each lungful of air you took in, filling you with sorrow and misery and agony. It was hopelessness and despair that you breathed in.

It was drowning and suffocation at the same time.

Lucifer had grown used to the darkness of Hell, he’d had no choice to grow used to it. He’d never grown to enjoy it. Joy and hope and other beautiful emotions didn’t last long in Hell. Even it’s King was not exempt from that truth. It was a place for the worst of humanity, the most hideous souls to ever walk the earth were sent there. Beauty had no place within its boundaries. Jagged obsidian columns like broken teeth jutted from the ground, reaching for the ash filled sky. Fires flickered erratically throughout the landscape, but offered no warmth or comfort, only the impending sense of doom and dread. No wind whistled through the towering masses of rock, only screams and moans of pain filtered through the endless corridors. Whispers of fear crawled through halls, their source unknown.

Lucifer knew the darkness of Hell and this was _not_ it.

At one point, in time immemorial to humanity, Lucifer knew a colder darkness, a less threatening one. 

Before his Fall, before his relationship with his siblings deteriorated, before his Mother was cast out, before humanity was even a passing thought to his Father, there had been a never ending void.

His Father had said let there be light.

So Lucifer had created the stars. He’d broken up the void with bursts of brilliance and heat, formed it between his hands, scattered them like gemstones in the virgin earth, and filled the world with light. 

But the void remained in between his stars, black, pitiless, and cold. The blaze from his stars could not warm it. No matter what galaxies or constellations he created, he could not eradicate the vastness of the void. It was an all consuming darkness which not even his cries of outrage could penetrate.

His Father had been pleased with his stars. Lucifer had been dismayed they could not eliminate the darkness.

But when he had landed on the Earth, when he had gazed up into the void from the Garden, his breath had been stolen by the beauty of it all.

The void only made his stars shine all the brighter. It was a cold, never ending darkness. But it was beautiful in its own way. It accented the beauty of everything around it. Lucifer learned then that light, no matter how bright, no matter how brilliant, could not eradicate the looming darkness.

After that first night on Earth, Lucifer admitted he didn’t want to.

Yet the darkness he found himself in was not _that_ void either.

It was not the terror of Hell’s darkness, nor was it the looming darkness of the sky.

It simply was.

There was no heat, nor cold. No flicker of fire nor dancing starlight. No despair nor hope.

It just was. It was nothing.

Lucifer drifted within the darkness, he couldn’t tell if his eyes were open or closed, whether he lay still or was moving.

He could only drift and let his thoughts consume him, a dangerous thing on a good day.

Today was _not_ a good day.

Chloe came to his mind, the first thing he became aware of as he always was lately.

Her tear stained face, her trembling hands, the terror in her blue eyes.

His heart constricted painfully and he tried to will thoughts of her away but it was in vain.

He managed only to push thoughts of her visage away. He couldn’t help but to think of what she had done. To him. She had tried to kill him. Tried to send him back to Hell, the place where he escaped from. The place he never wanted to return to. His own personal prison and cage where he played at being warden. Three years. _Three years_ of partnership and she had still chosen a _stranger’s_ word over his.

His throat constricted and he felt like his chest was captured in a vice.

He could still see the terrified look in her eyes. See her stumbling back in fear of _him._

He knew, deep _deep_ down he had known she was lying, that she wasn’t alright. The violent flinch when he’d put his hand on her shoulder. The barely concealed terror in her eyes when she had come to Lux and placed her hand over his, how she couldn’t bear to hold his gaze. His power of pulling out people's desires had never worked on her, but he could always tell when someone was lying to him. He’d caught her lies before the whole Pierce debacle.

His wings wanted to curl around him in remembered pain. The ghost of bullets thundering against his wings, the warmth of blood oozing through his wings still made him shudder. He’d stumbled back to Lux after… well _after_ everything and had spent hours picking bullets from his wings. Partly because of how many there were but mostly because it was fucking _agony_ treating himself.

He could have called Amenadiel. He could have asked Linda. Fuck, he could have asked Maze. Even if she had betrayed him, Lucifer was already mostly over her momentary betrayal. They had known each other for countless millennia. She had dragged him from the Lake of Fire Dad only _knew_ how long after his Fall. She had been the one to fight off the other demons while he recovered. She had stood at his side for eons. Even releasing her from her duty to him hadn’t _erased_ their bond and they both knew it. 

Her momentary betrayal hadn’t hurt nearly as deeply as the det— as _Chloe’s_ because Mazikeen had never _lied._ She was pissed off and upset so she lashed out, she was a _demon_ , no time on earth could erase her tendency for violence and retribution. But Chloe… to lie to his face, to use his feelings for her _against him._

A scream of rage and anger burst forth from his lips and he writhed in the darkness.

“Are you happy now Father!? Was _this_ your plan!? Have her kill me to send me back to Hell and if that didn’t work I’d tuck my tail between my legs like a kicked puppy and take myself back?! FUCK YOU! Fuck you!” He choked off as tears fell down his face and his chest heaved, his body still lying and drifting in the darkness. “Fuck you Dad…”

The darkness swallowed his screams, and his tears, and lay silent.

And Lucifer was left to wallow in his grief, until a small hand touched his shoulder, and he startled, realizing that somehow he was standing. He turned over his shoulder and rubbed his eyes quickly, looking down at the newest person and gave a deep, exhausted sigh.

“Azrael…”

His younger sister looked up at him with a shaky smile, adjusting her glasses and shrugged, tucking her hands into her pockets.

“Hey Lu…”

Lucifer just shook his head and studied her, taking in her downcast eyes and nervously twiddling thumbs.

“To what do I owe the pleasure Rae-Rae?” His voice was soft and lacked his usual charm. Only exhaustion and grief in his words.

Azrael shifted and fidgeted again looking around them into the darkness. Something clicked in his mind and Lucifer sagged, his shoulders dropping in defeat.

“I’m in your realm, aren’t I Rae-Rae….”

The Angel of Death gave a startled squeak and nodded, her eyes filled with pain.

“Uh, yea… Welcome to Limbo Lu… you aren’t dead though! Not… not yet. Not quite. But enough to land yourself here…” she shifted and looked up at him, tears gathering in her eyes. It was her job to escort souls to their destinations but that didn’t apply to Angels.

It _shouldn’t_ apply to angels at least. Especially Lucifer. When he died he generally just popped down to Hell. 

Lucifer shook his head, running a hand through his hair, frowning at the feel of his natural curls.

“Why are you here Azrael? Why am I here? We both know I’ve only one place to go.”

Azrael shifted from foot to foot again, fiddling with her sleeves.

“Well, you aren’t dead yet, and actually Raph came down and is working on you with Amenadiel and your demon. So you’re actually… well you kinda have a choice. You could... you could end up... n-never mind, you can either go back or you can, uh, go to Hell. No pun intended.”

Lucifer snorted and shook his head, staring incredulously down at his sister.

“You’re joking.”

She shook her head, lips pursed into a thin line.

“Believe it or not Lu, but I don’t joke when it comes to my job. And right now, your my, uh, _client_ I guess is the best word.”

Lucifer rocked back on his heels, hands going into the pockets of his dress pants.

“Then let me ask you this Rae-Rae, why in the _Hell_ would I go back to Earth? Pun _fully_ intended.”

His sister gave him a dry look, squaring her shoulders up to look him in the eye.

“Because one human shouldn’t be responsible for making my brother leave his home.”

Lucifer blinked. He stared down at his little sister and his gaze softened.

“Rae-Rae… it was two humans, and one of them was largely significant in my life. It’s my own fault—”

“NO it’s NOT Lu!” His sister cut him off, her wings trembling in rage behind her. Her eyes flashed with her own kind of fire, “YOU are my brother! You have other people who love you! Ella, that kid, Amenadiel, your doctor Linda, even your demon Maze cares about you! You have _friends_ and **_family_** that want you to come back _home!_ I get it, what that… that _human_ did is just… it doesn’t make sense! She should _know_ you the way that we _all_ ** _know you!_** So… so don’t give me _crap_ about it being your fault that she was horrible or-or any crap about you not having anything left to stay for! You’re getting a _choice_ Lu, and it’s not _me giving it to you!”_ Her chest heaved, panting as she finished her rant and glared up at her brother.

Lucifer looked at her with wide brown eyes. Hesitantly he softened. He stepped forward, his wings bursting from his back as his arms and wings wrapped around his little sister, so similar to what they used to do before his Fall. She trembled in his grasp before her wings encircled him, fitting snugly beneath his as her arms wrapped around his waist and she buried her face in his chest. Lucifer rest his chin atop her head, closing his eyes and breathing in the scent of posies and feathers, the familiar scent of his sister. She mumbled against his chest, and his ears strained to pick it up.

“Dad was the one to offer you the choice Lu… and I don’t think he wants you in Hell any longer. But he’s _giving you a choice._ ”

Lucifer sucked in a breath and held her all the harder. Wasn’t that what he had been wanting for millennia? Wasn’t that what he had fought for, all those eons ago? 

Isn’t that what he had Fallen for?

Lucifer closed his eyes and nodded. It didn’t fix anything, not by a long shot. He would probably still never return to the Silver City, but in his typical wordless, indirect way, his Father had finally, _finally_ , answered him.

“Okay Rae-Rae. Okay. Let’s get my devilishly handsome arse back home.”

Azrael pulled back and beamed at him, her warm brown eyes swimming with tears and he smiled back and—

Lucifer jolted up, gasping for breath. He looked wildly around him, not understanding what he was seeing at first as figures and voices shouted in joy and shock around him. He felt the pain piercing through his confusion, felt the white fire that danced through his wings.

He looked around with wide startled eyes and met an achingly familiar pair of amber ones that he hadn’t seen since before his Fall.

_“Raphael!_ ”

His sister beamed at him, sweat dripping down her face and exhaustion mixing with joy as she touched his cheek.

“Hey Sammy!”

He ignored the nickname, turning to gaze at Gabriel in wonder, memories of his brother barging into his penthouse, stopping the knife from piercing his heart. His eyes travelled to Amenadiel, to Linda, to _Maze_ standing around him, blood covering their clothes and worry but also _joy_ filling their faces. Even Maze had a slight smile on her face, though pain and anger lingered in the tightness of her shoulders.

His burst of energy left him and he sank back to the table, eyes closing as he sank back into yet another darkness.

This time though, it was the familiar darkness of sleep as pain and exhaustion weighed him down and he drifted off once more. 

His lungs were clear of fluid, his heart pumping beneath his breast with newfound strength, and the internal hemorrhaging healed as the last traces of the poison were drawn from his body.

As his consciousness faded, he sent up one last prayer, more of a stray thought really.

_‘Thanks…. Dad… but you’re still a prick…’_

  
  
  



	7. The Righteous Side of Hell

Days ticked by in an endless stream. Seconds flowed sluggishly over the world, like molasses oozing from a weeping wound on a maple tree. The sun rose and the sun fell, and time continued to march onwards into eternity.

Purple and black circles sagged under blue eyes, like bruises from a bar fight. Her hair was lanky and oily, she wasn’t sure when she showered last, though she was sure it had been… it had been… a while. Her tired brain stuttered and faltered, settling on a vague response, even to her own mind. 

It was her _thing_ , apparently. This whole lying to herself. 

Chloe Decker sat at her desk, looking at the file in her hand unblinking. Her eyes were bloodshot, she didn’t know when she last slept through the night. She barely managed to choke down breakfast every morning but she tried, she _had_ to try. Trixie was a smart little thing, she noticed something was wrong with her mom, she _had_ noticed for a while now. But she didn’t need to worry her daughter too much. She tried to eat, so Trix wouldn’t worry. She tried to go about her routine as normally as possible. The weekend had passed in a blur, she barely remembered anything after her phone call. She’d cried herself to sleep on the floor between her couch and her coffee table, thankful that Dan had taken Trixie for the weekend, and she’d just… lain there. 

When she finally came back to herself, her head pounded, her mouth was dry, and she had to pee like nobody’s business. Her clothes were rumpled and wrinkled. She’d managed to move herself to her bed and then… well then nothing. She’d continue to cry and lay in bed inconsolable for the next few hours (days?...) until she’d heard the door open and Trixie had come in, her face going from bright and excited to frowning in confusion and concern seeing her mother laying in bed.

She didn’t know what she’d said to ease her daughters fear, she didn’t remember much of anything. Dan had called her to check on her, at least… she thought he had. She had some vague recollection of his voice on the phone as she sat on the couch cuddled next to Trixie.

Maybe Trixie had sent him a text worried about her…

Regardless, she’d managed to pull herself together enough to take Trixie to school on Monday, pick her up, and then drop her off again in what seemed an endless pattern. Was today Tuesday? Or Wednesday? How many times had she picked Trixie up? Maybe it was three and today was Thursday?

Chloe sighed and put her head in her hands, rubbing at her eyes.

Along with the endless stream of time, she’d not heard a single word from anyone about… about _him_. 

Maze hadn’t spoken to her or even shown up to rant at her. Amenadiel hadn’t been heard from, Linda was keeping silent too. And Chloe didn’t dare try to text or call any of them. She still wasn’t sure what had inspired her to call _Maze_ right after what she’d done.

Well… that wasn’t exactly true… she’d had some idea…

Chloe knew the two were close — _she’s his freaking demon bodyguard for go- chri— for_ **_fucks_ ** _sake—_ Maze would… would know how to help him, and she would help to… to fix him.

Memories began to overwhelm her and she felt her lip start to tremble, trying to force the tears away, her eyes aching and sore from all the tears she’d already spilt as the horrific bloody seen of Lucifer hanging by his hands, bound and chained, bleeding and scraps of meat hanging off of him like.. like a butchered pig—!

“—loe! Chloe what’s wrong?!” 

Chloe snapped out of it, her chest heaving and her head on her desk as she tried not to hyperventilate. She looked up and met Dan’s worried stare, feeling her lip wobble all the more. 

She couldn’t break down at work, she _couldn’t!_

“Hey, hey it’s alright, come on. Let’s get out of her, go get lunch or something alright?” Dan frowned down at her as he helped her to her feet, glancing around to make sure no one had noticed her lapse in control. Alarm bells began ringing in his head as Chloe came willingly, passively. She didn’t fight him even though he knew she hated being babied like this. He rubbed his hands up and down her shoulders, trying to ground her and offer her some warmth, her skin was _freezing!_

 _“_ Hey, I gotta let the sergeant know we’re going on lunch, you just head to my car and I’ll take us out, here, take the keys and get the car going, I’ll be there shortly.” He handed over the keys to his cruise and his concern only grew as she nodded absently and walked off to the parking garage. Trixie had said that her mom wasn’t doing well over the week but this… something was _seriously_ wrong. Maybe that dickhead Lucifer fucked up and disappeared somewhere again, he hadn’t been around all week. Maybe he took his annoying ass back to Vegas.

Dan frowned and shook himself mentally. As easy as it was to pin this on Lucifer, oh and it was so fucking easy, he had to admit that Chloe had been… off… for a while. Since she returned from Europe really. But something must have happened over the weekend to really send her over the edge like this. She was going on a date with Lucifer Friday night, and Trixie said she’d been upset Sunday when he’d dropped her off at home.

Maybe that asshole had fucked up their date and ruined their relationship? It would serve _him_ right, Chloe deserved better. But she wouldn’t be this torn up about a date gone wrong…

Detective instincts tingling, Dan made his way to Ella’s lab, knocking briskly and stepping inside, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Hey, Ella, could you do me a favor? Chloe’s been acting weird and I think Lucifer is involved. Will you swing by Lux and go see what’s wrong with him? I don’t want to fucking deal with him, God knows I never get a straight answer. And I’d honestly punch him first and ask questions later right now.”

Ella turned and smiled brightly, her dark ponytail bouncing as she took her earphones out and nodded. Her eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Sure no problem! I’ve been noticing her seemingly really out of it, I hope you can cheer her up! I’m almost done with my work for the day, I’ll swing by his place on my way out.” 

Dan smiled sheepishly and gave her a quick hug, sighing.

“Thanks Ella. I appreciate it. Let me know if he tells you anything.”

She just laughed and hugged him back tightly, her smile bright and infectious.

“Don’t be too hard on him, we don’t know what happened.”

Dan rolled his eyes and began walking out the door waving carelessly over his shoulder.

“It’s Lucifer! She probably walked in on him having an orgy or something!”

Ella shook her head and put her headphones back in, turning to her microscope and blood samples.

“Alright you little buggers, show me what you’ve got….”

Dan walked out into the parking garage, finding his way to his cruiser and sliding into the driver's seat quickly. Chloe barely acknowledged him, her eyes glassy and red rimmed as she stared out the window, like the filthy cement was the most interesting thing she’d ever seen.

Except, well her eyes looked dead. Like she wasn’t even there.

Dan cleared his throat and drove out of the parking lot, heading to the diner that Trixie loved over by his apartment. Questions burned in his mind, so many things he wanted to ask her, he wanted to find out what Lucifer had done, he wanted to know if she was going to be okay, he wanted to know how he could help her.

He swallowed and stared determinedly at the road. 

“Chlo, if you need to talk… I’m here. I know I’ve fucked up recently, I know I’ve been angry, but I… I am here. For you, if you want.”

She blinked owlishly and turned her head slowly to look at him. Her cheeks were gaunt and her eyes sunken into her skull. She looked like a wraith. Her lips were chapped from where she obviously kept gnawing on them, something he knew from years of experience was a habit of hers when she was nervous. 

When she did speak, he was honestly surprised. Her voice was wispy and hoarse, gravelly from the weight of her tears.

“I just… you’d think I’m crazy Dan… maybe I am crazy… but it’s all so much… too much! I don’t… I don’t think I’m ready to talk. I don’t,.. I don’t want to talk.”

Dan sighed but nodded, reaching over and grabbing her hand, squeezing. He offered her a small smile.

“I’m here for you.”

She offered a strenuous smile in return, though it didn’t reach her eyes. She squeezed back.

*~*~*~*

Ella loved her job. 

People thought she was odd, joking about death, not being phased by it. Being able to see the worst of humanity every single day and still find it in herself to laugh and smile and _love._ Seeing somebody viciously maul and murder their spouse, or parent, or child and _still_ walk away at the end of the day with her smile lighting up the room.

Her family just thought she was eccentric, her coworkers thought she was naive, and most people thought she was just plain _weird_.

Ella just thought she was human.

Everyone died, and she firmly believed in Heaven and Hell.

She felt that people who did such horrible things _would_ get their karmic justice in due time. The world was a good place filled with people. Not bad people or good people, just _people_ . And people made mistakes, they do bad things, they do good things, they do, well, _things_ . Ella didn’t see the world in black or white, and she didn’t want to let the bad things ever cloud her view of the good and _great_ things in the world. So she let the nasty oily tendrils of evil and horror slide off of her, like… like her own spiritual raincoat! 

Ella grinned to herself, spiritual raincoat was pretty good! She was so going to share that one with someone! 

She just wanted to be that reminder for her coworkers and friends, that in a world where people did bad things, there were people like _them_ doing good things, trying to find justice. Trying to stop more evil from being committed.

And reminding them that there were good people in the world.

Her _Abuelita_ would remind her that love was like a super power, it was the _best_ superpower. 

An image flashed through her mind of herself posing like Superman in tight blue and red spandex. She covered her mouth, trying to muffle her laughter so as not to disturb anyone else on the bus. A few people sneered at her, but others gave her a long look before finally smiling to themselves and going back to their phones or their papers. To Ella, it just proved the point of her internal monologue.

People were people. Good, bad, or in between.

She hopped off the bus, walking up to the doors of Lux, unsurprised to find them unlocked. Seriously, Lucifer needed to start locking this place up when it wasn’t open!

She could practically hear him making excuses in his suave British accent.

_‘Ms. Lopez! The Devil doesn’t lock his doors to the needy masses! They may need a favor! Or an orgasm! Of which I can provide both!’_

She didn’t try to hide her snort of laughter, imagining the look on his face, the wiggle of his eyebrows. She didn’t doubt he was being honest, he took his method acting way too seriously sometimes, but it was totally in character for him!

She stepped out of the elevator into Lucifer’s penthouse and her smile died. Her mirth fading away as she took in the wide expanse of his floor. How all the furniture looked like it was deliberately pushed to the sides of the room. The bloody chains hanging from a hook in the ceiling and the pools of blood within a circle of salt. Off to the side there was a bottle of wine and a wine glass, the contents still full. On the floor by where she assumed the coffee table had been, shattered glass and spilled wine was staining the floor. Her heart began to pound as she stepped forward into the penthouse, her hands shaking as she took in the sight.

Walking into brutal crime scenes was one thing, when it was your job, and she knew what to expect.

Walking into your friends _house_ and finding something out of a Satanic horror movie was something else entirely.

With shaking fumbling fingers Ella brought her phone out, dialing Lucifers number as quickly as she could.

“Come on buddy, please be okay!”

His phone started going off somewhere to her left and Elle choked, ending the call and trying to force herself to take deep, even breaths. This couldn’t be _happening!_

She looked down at her phone, dialing again, taking in a deep breath as she listened to it ring.

“Uh, Dan, hey… can you drop Chloe off at her place and come to Lux? I… I just.. you need to see this… I think I know why Chloe has been freaked out the last few days… just… come here as soon as you can.” She let the phone drop as she sank to her knees, staring at the scene in front of her, unwilling to move further in. The rational side of her mind whispering that she needed to stay put so as not to disturb the crime scene, _because what else could this be!?_

A louder part of her screamed it was because she was going into shock.

She ignored both sides and just sat, leaning against the counter and unable to take her eyes off of the salt and blood circle in the middle of her friend's home.

Where the hell was Lucifer?! And what in God's name had happened here?!

*~*~*~*

Roughly an hour later, Dan stepped out of the elevator behind her.

“Hey Ella, what’s wro— Holy FUCK!”

Dan’s eyes widened as he surveyed the same scene that Ella had. Taking in the moved furniture, the pools of blood and the salt circle. He looked at the shattered wine glass and felt his mind go utterly and completely blank. There were two old crusty grilled cheese sandwiches laying next to the bottle of wine and his stomach turned. He shoved his emotions into the far back corner of his mind and took a steadying breath. He knelt next to Ella, gripping her arm tightly. He stopped, his heart clenching at the sight of silent tears falling down the normally bubbly scientists face.

“Ella, listen to me. We’re going to find out what happened, and we aren’t going to get the rest of the station involved, not yet. You need to get your gloves and your camera.”

Ella looked up at him, a tiny frown maring her face and a line creased between her furrowed brows.

“Not get— Dan this is obviously a crime scene! This is like… full on horror movie torture scene level crime scene!”

Dan gripped her arms, breathing in deeply.

“I know! Jesus… I know okay? But if _this_ is what has Chloe so shaken… look we just need to… investigate a little first, and then we can call in everyone else but… look something’s telling me we need to keep this quiet, just… just for a little while. Okay? I promise, I’m not going to try and cover this up… even if… even if Chloe…”

He closed his eyes, breathing deeply as fear and horror tried to overcome him.

God if Chloe was part of this… he’d fucked up, royally, fucked up with Malcolm and Palmetto and a bunch of other shit.

But… _this?_

Ella softened and nodded, shakily. She struggled to her feet and headed back to the elevator. Her hands shook as she looked back at him. They didn’t speak anymore. They both knew what the other was thinking. This didn’t look good, not at all. If Chloe was responsible for Lucifers… disappearance, she was looking at a lot more than just losing her badge.

Dan let out a breath once the doors closed and he began to look around, trying to detach himself enough to look at this like any other crime scene. 

Number one, no body. That could be a good thing. It may mean he wasn’t dead.

 _Or it could mean they disposed of it_.

No. No no no no no, not going there. He stepped forward, towards the circle. No if they had time to dispose of a body, then why wouldn’t they clean up this mess?

So that meant they probably got interrupted. Which meant not finding a body could mean he was alive.

Which took this down from first degree murder to attempted murder. Not that much better but it was something. Maybe enough to avoid the death penalty.

Dan cringed and turned to the next thing he noticed about the salt circle, the strange words running around the entire thing. Latin probably, which meant somebody with a religious background, or maybe just a fanatic. Maybe someone took Lucifer's little moniker too seriously.

Dan bent down to pick something up off the ground inside the circle. Even soaked in blood, he could still see the underlying pearlescent feather. Just like the one they’d found at the loft after the whole Pierce debacle. The fuck?...

Dan set the feather back down and looked around. Sure enough, there were dozens of the same kind of feathers of varying lengths mixed in with the pools of blood. Had somebody beaten him with a pillow afterwards or something? These feathers... also seemed to glow? Maybe some kind of luminescent fibers? Some weird sex toy that he had stashed away and they’d brought it out to... tickle him to death? It didn’t make sense. 

His eyes turned towards a darker puddle in the center of the circle and he felt his stomach turn as he made out the shape beneath the blood. It was so thick with blood he could barely even make it out. The blood so concentrated there that it appeared to be a dark sinister black color.

A fucking star. Like a fucking pentagram star.  
  
Like Morningstar.

Whoever did this had one fucked up sense of humor, that was for fucking sure!

He turned to the wine and grilled cheese, a leaden dread growing in his stomach as he looked it over.

It wasn’t eaten, which would mean their date got interrupted. The broken wine glass could mean somebody was startled. But only one was broken so only one person was…

_Fuck!_

Dan’s heart sank to the ground as Chloe’s innocence began to become a distant dream.

_What the fuck happened here Chloe?_

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I just wanted to say that I’m honestly shocked and in awe of how well everyone is responding to this story! I know we’ve had a few concerns about Lucifer seemingly able to forgive everyone who’s ever betrayed him except for Chloe, but I will say the story is young yet. I hope everyone enjoys this newest chapter, I know there was a bit of a demand for Ella and Dan and after careful consideration I managed to pump this out! I’ve been fairly regular with updates (which is surprising for me) and I want to give you guys fair warning: This whole pandemic thing came right as I’m trying to finish my last semester of college, and finals are like three weeks away. So I promise to try for all of you, but I would ask for some understanding if I drop the ball every so often as I try to graduate. Let me know what you think in the comments down below, I DO take your comments into consideration as I shape the story.
> 
> Thanks everyone!
> 
> Istuineth


	8. The Wrong Side of Heaven

For the first time in countless millennia, the Silver City descended into chaos.

Human souls looked on in a mixture of awe and concern and just a tiny bit of fear, as the angels of the Heavenly Host flew between the buildings at breakneck speeds, their voices rising from dulcet tones to furious tempests, the language of the angels swiftly flowing around them like the heavy knolls of ringing bells, resounding with the force of impending doom. They’d been flying around in a tizzy for the last several days. Which only made the human souls all the more nervous as they walked the Silver Cities streets.

Because today, for the first time in… well, forever, the streets were deserted. The human souls had no idea what had riled the angels so much.

In a distant part of the city, in one of the many many halls reserved for the angels to gather in their full might, and save for four seats, the hall was filled with the entirety of the Host. Voices rang throughout the hall in a raucous clamor, each angel striving to be overhead by the others. Wings of every shade and size were ruffled in agitation, laying behind their owners. 

Finally, one angel stepped forward from their seat, brilliant golden wings flaring behind them, dark black curls framing a pale face set with rage, eyes the color of a clear blue sky flashing with barely tethered rage. Clad in resplendent silver and gold plated armor, with a gleaming sword strung on one hip, the angel commanded respect without question.

“ENOUGH! We will accomplish nothing in this clamor!”

The archangel strode towards the center of the floor, his wings trailing the ground behind him, the feathers ruffled with his anger.

“We know Father has tasked Gabriel with something on Earth for the first time in millennia, and we know that he returned swiftly to summon Raphael. Amenadiel has yet to return to the Silver City. We do not know what has caused Father to intervene but we cannot assume it forebodes war or anything of that ilk!”

From the gathered Host, murmurs broke out, each speculating on what this could mean. Some longed to be able to walk the Earth again, their wings itching with the desire to freely explore the world they had once helped build, to fly and discover new wonders of their Fathers jewel. Few of the Host were permitted to leave the Silver City on business regularly. For most, it had been eons, for others, a few millennia. 

From the front of the rows of seating, a petite figure stepped forward. Unlike her siblings, she wore human clothing, forging the typical robes of the Silver City. Her black hair was cropped short in a bowl cut, her black wings trailing behind her with a darkness that seemed to suck in all the light around her. Her expression was grave as she took off her glasses, tucking them away into a pocket. She approached her older brother and straightened her shoulders. The seldom used solemnity of her appearance had many of the Host quieting down to listen to her words.

“I know why Father intervened.”

Silence fell upon the Host as all eyes turned to the Angel of Death and the Sword of God.

“Speak, Azrael. How do you know Father’s Will?” The Archangel Michael, stared down at his younger sister with barely concealed impatience.

Azrael lifted her chin, her eyes narrowed.

“One of our brothers was caught and tortured on Earth by two humans. I spoke with him in my realm.”

White hot fury like the wrath of a supernova tore through the Host, voices raised in righteous anger as angels rose from their seats, the bombardment of sudden curses and screams swirled into an incomprehensible hurricane of feathers and fury.

“ _ SILENCE!” _

Michael’s voice boomed over the rest, each angel quelled like a snuffed out flame as they settled down. Though many did not retake their seats. Blue eyes flashed with rage as he stared down at his sister. It was not lost on him nor any of the Host the implication in her words, the unspoken horror.

For any angel to be found in Azrael’s realm it meant more than just a simple death. Celestials were not bound by their physical forms as humans were, a physical death would simply have them reappearing in the Silver City, though weaker than they had been. It would mean years of rest and recuperation before they were able to take a physical form again.

But for an angel to appear in Azrael's realm before death, meant they were more likely closer to oblivion. Utter annihilation. And few things could kill an angel, hell forged or heaven forged steels, or the angel suffering a large enough emotional wound they simply  _ willed _ themselves to non-existence.

Only two angels had ever gone into non-existence. Uriel, who’s crimes had been shown to the rest of the Host upon his death. Using his powers over patterns to kill a human was  _ still _ in effect him killing said human. That crime alone meant his Father would have punished him severely. They had mourned his passing but understood that however it had happened, he had brought it upon himself for his malicious intentions. Not to mention plotting to kill their mother.

The other… the other the Host did not speak of, their grief too much.

Father had banned the mix of humanity and divinity for many reasons, but most felt that the true reason was the fate of their long dead sister, who had fallen and carried and bore the first of the nephilim. Their sister, Zuriel, had been the first. Her wings had been the color of the sunset, seamless blends of orange and red and yellow, like the flickering flames of a fading fire, they had shimmered and shone with every movement. 

When humanity was still young, and divinity still walked amongst them, Zuriel had mingled with a mortal man, and they had been happy together for a time. Humanity had already been changing though, the world growing rife with sin and strife. Zuriel had been the first of the angels to bear a child to a mortal, though not the last. Nephilim at that time were rare, their numbers at their peak, reached perhaps a dozen. Zuriel’s son, had been the first born. It was soon before the boys first birthday that neighboring humans, malicious humans who enjoyed pain, caught the boy and tortured him to his death before any other realized he had gone missing. Zuriel had flown to her sons side when she realized something was wrong, fighting them off and cradling her dying son in her arms. She had checked the Silver City, but no sign of him lingered. They came to the realization that the humans had been able to find a hell forged or heaven forged blade, to use against the child. With only half of his parentage being celestial they came to the conclusion it had similar effects as Azrael’s blade did.

Within a week of her son's horrible death Zuriel perished, though she bore no physical wounds. That was when angels learned they could be felled if they suffered an emotional wound grave enough. Their grief for their sister drowned their anger, for a moment. God had not been so forgiving to humans.

Their Father had flooded the world, to mimic the flood of tears the Host wept for their lost family. And only a few chosen humans had been allowed to survive.

Azrael had seen them both before they faded to where not even she could follow. Zuriel had not spoken a word, only looked at her sister one final time before fading. Uriel had looked at her with shame in his face, and turned away, whispering a soft apology before he faded. 

To find a  _ third _ brother in her realm…

Michael drew himself to his full height, his hand gripping the pommel of his sword in a white knuckled rage.

“Amenadiel?”

But even as he spoke, Michael felt a new fury burning in his heart as his soul screamed the truth. But it wasn’t possible,  _ he _ was in Hell. He wasn’t on Earth.

Azrael shook her head and met his gaze unflinching. Her wings twitching behind her.

“Samael.”

New cries from the Host. Voices raised as they argued amongst themselves.

“ _ Samael?! He’s left Hell?!” _

_ “Serves him right for defying Father—“ _

_ “He is still our brother!” _

_ “He brought this upon himself!” _

_ “I had heard whispers of him leaving but this—” _

_ “Father sent Gabriel to intervene for  _ **_him?!”_ **

Thunder clapped from over head and the doors swung open, a tall figure walked in. He was indescribable, even to his firstborn children. His features shifted every time someone gazed upon him. Brown hair, black hair, light skin, dark skin, ever changing. He embodied all of his children at once. 

The Host fell utterly silent as their Father walked into the room.

He approached his two children standing in the center, their eyes wide in shock. They both hastily tipped their heads to their Father and took a step back, allowing him to take the center of the room.

God looked upon his firstborn and felt an age old grief. He had done his best with his children but he had been a young god, quick to anger with all of creation. Now as he saw the confusion and anger and righteousness as siblings turned once more against each other on how to feel about the atrocity committed against their brother, God allowed himself to acknowledge that he had made a mistake, possibly many mistakes, in how he reacted to Samael’s rebellion. 

“Samael is still  _ my son. _ He is still  _ your brother. _ The two humans will face my Wrath and my Judgement. Michael, Azrael, you two will follow me. Duma, Pyriel, you two will go to Hell and restore order. Guard the Gates. Remiel, go with them and put down any demons that don’t fall into line.”

With a rustle of feathers and a gust of wind, the three angels disappeared. Remiel grinning in eager anticipation of the coming fight, her spear gripped tightly.

God turned to the Host and frowned. They all settled back, their faces falling at the look of barely concealed disappoint in his eyes.

“The rest of you continue with your duties as normal. This will be resolved swiftly. Think about the meaning of forgiveness and when humans began to hold sway over your feelings of your siblings.”

He turned and strode from the room again, Michael and Azrael obediently falling into line behind him. They walked through the celestial part of the city to a brilliantly gleaming building. Silver plated and covered with crystals, the building lay empty and cold despite the myriad of miniature stars of all colors that lit the home that had been empty since Samael was cast from Heaven.

Michael faltered as he walked into his twins home, rage and sorrow warring within him. He still blamed his brother for defying their Father, for forcing Michael to choose between his twin and his Father. His heart clenched painfully within his chest as memories of better times threatened to consume him.

God settled himself upon a shimmering silver settee, letting out a sigh as his two children took seats across from him. Michael looked pained, though he still gripped his sword tightly, an outward sign at his still simmering rage. Azrael sat poised, her wings still bristling. Her rage was quieter, more controlled, but even more potent than her brothers.

“Azrael, you will be the one to appear to the mortal priest. Remind him of Sodom and Gomorrah and what happens to humans who threaten harm upon angels, let alone commit such an act. Do not kill him nor physically harm him. Perhaps take him on a trip to show him what awaits him after death. No longer than three Earth days. I’ll be making arrangements for him to face human justice as well as divine.”

A dark smile lit her otherwise passive features, the dark promises in her eyes. Though she spent most of her time comforting and guiding the righteous to the Gates of Heaven, she had earned her reputation for fear when the world was younger and her Father sent angels more often. She had seen every single one of the atrocities humanity had committed. The thing with those who had engineered such atrocities, generally felt no guilt for their actions. They expected to go to Heaven and be congratulated on their ‘God sent mission to cleanse their fellow humans’.

She enjoyed showing those souls just how wrong they were as she took the long way to Hell.

She disappeared with a gust of wind, eager to see to her task and take a break from her normal duties.

Michael stared at his Father, shifting in his seat.

“What about me Father?...”

God looked upon his son and offered a small, comforting smile.

“You shall deal with the other. Though you must understand the full extent of her betrayal. This mortal is more than others. She’s a Miracle. One I had set into Samael’s path, though this… was not the intended purpose.” God let out a weary sigh and settled back into the seat, gazing at the brilliant glowing stars throughout the room. Across from him Michael had tensed, feathers fluttering in newfound agitation.

“How does her crime weigh more than the other mortals?” The archangel's voice was terse with fury.

God considered the small white star in front of him, his voice heavy with grief for his long separated son’s pain.

“Because Samael loved her, and she used it against him.”

Michael tore from his seat in a flurry, throwing a nearby vase across the room where it shattered into a thousand pieces against the wall and roared with his rage.

God let his son vent for a few minutes, Michael and Samael have always had the worst tempers of all his children, before standing and laying a calming hand upon his shoulder. Instantly his son quieted, though his chest heaved with repressed screams. God lifted a hand to touch his son’s cheek, offering him a small, sad smile.

“I know, Michael. I know. But this human still means something to your twin. You cannot strike her down, though my urge to smite her for her insolence is strong. Samael would not want that.”

Michael sneered and raised a hand, wiping furiously at the tears gathered in his eyes as he imagined his brother's pain. Even before his Fall, his twin had been slow to trust and blindly love. For him to fall for a human, a creature he had barely tolerated before his Fall. For this mortal to use that  _ against _ him… 

Angels, were as a rule, not romantically inclined. Mostly because they were only exposed to each other, and they were literally  _ all siblings. _ Incest didn’t fly in the Silver City, despite what the Egyptians had thought.

Michael suppressed a shudder at that horrible mix up.

The few celestials who had fallen in love with mortals, were very,  _ very _ few in number. But no matter the countless eons that had passed for them since meeting their mortal loves, they continued to be devoted and smitten to their chosen. Though initially mortality had been a heavy burden, every single couple had been able to reunite in the Silver City and continue to find joy in each other.

Like a lighting strike across a black starless night, where each branch of lightning illuminates the landscape, realization stuck. Michael trembled in impotent rage.his voice a choked whisper of dawning horror.

“You intended to lift his banishment, when her mortal life ended. You intended for him to come home…”

God looked at his son with pain and grief.

“I saw many possibilities for their relationship Michael. Friendship, coworkers, rivals, and yes, lovers. I knew there was a possibility of them… not working out, for lack of a better word, but I never took away her Free Will. She was free to make her own choices, always. I had hoped… I created an opportunity, a mortal who he would not be able to beguile, one immune to his powers. So that they might be able to  _ know _ each other, as he could not let others know him. I gambled, Michael. And I lost. Even without her, I would let Samael back home, but I had hoped to inspire him to  _ want _ to come home.”

The pain and rage in Samael’s eyes when his own twin brother had cast him from Heaven was still a memory that haunted Michael, though he knew in his heart he could not have sided with his brother when he disagreed so strongly with the rebellion. He could not fathom the look in his other half’s eyes, when he realized what his  _ love  _ had done to him. To go eons without trusting, without letting yourself care, and to finally open himself up only to have it  _ turned against him! _ Michael’s body shuddered as he forcibly repressed his urge to take flight and go smite several deserving humans. Or just one  _ undeserving mortal  _ at least.

“Then how am I to punish her when we know Samael will rage against it?”

God gave a tight lipped smile, using a thumb to brush away another errant tear.

“Because, Michael, you will not be delivering a typical punishment. I will leave the ultimate decision up to Samael, as my original  _ gift _ did not work out. For now, you will be ensuring she is punished by human standards, and that she comes to acknowledge her culpability. You must exercise restraint. No smiting. No physical violence against her. This will not be an easy nor quick task for you, My son,Do you understand your task Michael?” God looked imploringly into his son's eyes, hand still lingering on his cheek.

Michael’s blue eyes flashed with righteous fury and he gave a curt nod.

“Perfectly Father.”

*~*~*~*~*

When Chloe heard the gust of wind behind her, she leapt up from her couch spinning around, her face drawn in a tight frown and her heart hammering beneath her breast.

“Amenadiel I can expla—” she cut herself off abruptly as her jaw dropped, and she stared at the man in front of her. The perfectly tailored suit, the tall imposing figure and dark, untamed curls framing a pale face. Her breath left her in a rush and fear and grief warred within her mind as she took a step back.

“L- _ Lucifer?!” _

A cold smile twisted across his lips as the man stepped forward, walking around her couch with slow, predatory grace.

“Afraid not Chloe Decker. My name is Michael,” he backed her up against the wall of her apartment, and now Chloe could spot the differences. His eyes were blue like a clear afternoon sky, where Lucifer's eyes were as dark as the night. Though he dressed in an eerily similar fashion, this man —  _ angel her mind screamed! —  _ wore a sky blue tie that matched his eyes whereas Lucifer hated ties. His black hair was naturally curly and left free, Lucifer preferred to tame his curls into painstaking neatness.

Whereas Lucifer had looked at her with warmth and concern, this man looked at her with barely concealed rage and contempt.

“I’m his twin brother.”

Chloe’s heart dropped to the floor as she pressed her back against the wall, her heart thundering away in her chest, like a bird in a cage desperate to get away.

The archangel gave another slow, chilling smile and stepped away, satisfied that he had made an impression. The breath suddenly rushed into her lungs once more, her head dizzy.

When had she stopped breathing?!

Michael walked around her apartment, taking everything in. The board games, the drawings her daughter made.

The smell of tears and fear. Guilt. 

His smile widened. Teeth bared like a grinning shark, sharp and dangerous. Blood thirsty. Looks like the mortal would make this easier on him than he thought.

“Father and many of my siblings are angry with you.” He said it with such ease, such  _ carelessness _ , like it was just an everyday report on the weather.

Chloe’s breaths came faster, in uneven gulps of air. Her vision narrowed to only the angel standing in her living room. She shook her head back and forth, a fresh wave of tears building up behind her eyes. He meant God. She had angered  _ God  _ and his  _ angelic children. _

“N-no! F-Father Kinley said w-we had to send him back to H-hell! He said we were doing  _ God's work!  _ H-he said he was evil! He’s the  _ actual Devil!  _ The Devil is evil! Every book says so! _ Everything says so!” _

But Michael only laughed, a cruel, joyless sound.

“Father Kinley? You seem to hold his word in high regard. Tell me,” He turned and cold crystalline blue eyes bore into hers. “You must have known Father Kinley, well, all your life! If you trust his word so much, so readily. How long have you known him? Five years? Ten? Surely longer than you knew my brother!” His words were imbued with false cheer, a deceptive nonchalance.

He settled down against the counter, leaning against it and folding his arms across his chest. The picture of a relaxed businessman.

If only his eyes weren’t as cold as a winter blizzard’s wind.

His words pounded through her head and she tried to force them away.

“I-I met him a few… a few weeks ago… I-in Rome.” Her voice was quiet, choked by tears. “But he’s a  _ priest _ he knows what he’s talking about! He works for the  _ Vatican!” _

“Ah.” Michael examined the drawings on the wall, pity for the woman’s offspring stirring in his heart. “Tell me, how many priests did you consult with? How many Rabbi? How many Imam? The Jewish tend to view the Devil most clearly, a son of God sent to do His work punishing evil, if they chose to believe in my brother at all.”

It would be hard on the girl when she lost her mother. Poor thing.

“And as we  _ all  _ know, priests are infallible. So I don’t blame you at all for trusting a priest who sought you out. He did, didn’t he? Seek  _ you _ out? Not the other way around?” He continued on, not giving her the chance to speak. His words were laced with heavy scorn and sarcasm as he turned his glare back to the woman. “No priest has  _ ever _ committed a crime. I mean! All those innocent women they tortured, drowned and hanged were so  _ obviously _ witches. The  _ millions  _ who burned at the stake for believing different things about my Father were  _ obviously _ truly guilty of hearsay, after all there is only  _ one _ right way to worship. The priests who molested and raped innocent children were  _ obviously _ doing it for a higher purpose as they claimed  _ right? In the name of  _ **_my_ ** _ Father.” _

Chloe sank to the floor, tears flowing down her cheeks in uncontrolled torrents. She shook her head back and forth, bringing her knees to her chest and sobbing, unable to look into his eyes anymore.

The archangel was far from done with her.

“Did you know that the concept of  _ The  _ Devil was invented roughly two thousand years ago, after centuries of the word  _ satan  _ simply meaning an adversary? In fact angels were commonly called adversaries or ‘satans’ when they opposed the  _ immoral _ ? Eventually humans did what they do best. They forced their own views into things. Suddenly righteous works of my Father became evil temptations of my brother. My brother changed from being the punisher of evil to the  _ root _ of all evil. When early Christians wanted to force pagans to convert or risk burning, they took images of their Horned god and transposed them onto my brother, trying to prove their god was really the church's devil. This was a popular tactic when they encountered the Celtic people.”

Michael shook his head, watching the woman crumble apart in front of him without pity.

“You don’t have to believe me, feel free to look this all up when I leave. Angels are perfectly capable of lying. My brother Lucifer though has never lied, he detests it. But you know what? In this case, I have no need to lie. Not when the truth will accomplish my work far better than a few pretty lies.”

Michael watched her with contempt, his blue eyes flashing like lightning across the sky.

“You  _ knew _ my brother and trusted a stranger over him. You trusted a man you’d only recently met to be the authority on a man who had only ever protected you and told you the truth.  _ You chose to trust that man _ . You  _ chose _ this.”

Chloe shook her head, unable to form words.

Michael stood and headed towards the woman, kneeling in front of her.

“Think about that. I’ll be seeing you again, sooner than you’d like.”

With that he stood up and left in another burst of wind, Chloe’s hair blown back by the breeze. 

She sat there and sobbed, struggling to breath beneath the weight of her guilt and denial.

Father Kinley had been an expert! He was a priest for the Vatican! He knew what he was talking about!

_ ‘Circumstantial evidence of a crime isn’t enough. Pictures aren’t enough. They wouldn’t be for anyone else. Why was Lucifer different?’ _

Chloe let out a keening wail and rocked herself against the wall, sobbing. She didn’t know what to think. Her mind was still filled with the perps that Lucifer had sent screaming. Barnes bashing his head in against the glass. That street priest screaming he’s the devil. That horrific face of red skin and melted flesh and hellfire eyes staring  _ right at her and  _ **_it speaking her name!_ **

But the archangel's words floated through her mind. Conjuring very  _ very _ different images of her partner.

The fear on his face as he knelt in front of her after Barnes shot her. Even though they’d only just met.

Lucifer laying on her floor with her and Trixie at game night, unicorns and rainbows painted on his cheeks bemoaning the glitter but his eyes filled with warmth. Laying on the ground and making sarcastic snarky comments, sucking on a lollipop and giving her mischievous looks every few minutes, letting her know without saying anything crude in front of her daughter that his mind was undoubtedly in the gutter.

The joy and delight on his face as he sat at his piano playing with Father Frank, the both of them laughing and smiling, like two young boys caught with mud all over themselves. The devastation and grief as the priest died in Lucifer's arms. The murmured conversation that she had only managed to catch snippets of, her focus on the drug dealing counselor. The utter fury and grief that had raged in dark eyes as Frank passed.

Lucifer taking care of her and respecting her when she showed up at his penthouse drunk and offering to sleep with her. Him, the guy who had been trying to get into her pants every day since they first met.  _ Turning her down because he knew she couldn’t fully consent _ . Feeding her breakfast and Tylenol and water in the morning, ensuring she was feeling okay and teasing her relentlessly. 

If he was really evil like Father Kinley said, then he wouldn’t have done any of that. He wouldn’t… he wouldn’t play with her daughter. He wouldn’t have befriended and mourned a priest. He wouldn’t… he wouldn’t have respected her right to choose.

Kinley had said he was playing the long game, trying to trick her into trusting him before he betrayed her.

But… hadn’t that been what she ended up doing? Luring him in to try and… no, no it was a  _ sedative! _ It wasn’t harmful to him! It… it shouldn’t have been. Right?

Kinley had been so  _ sure _ that only she could give it to him, that she had to be there when he performed the exorcism. Something about… about…

Her making the Devil vulnerable.

Unbidden, a memories crashed into her already fragile mind.

_ Lucifer yelled at her to shoot him, egging her on as she struggled to understand the flash of red knotted flesh she’d seen in the reflection. Her hands shook as he yelled at her and finally until she shot at him, aiming for his leg just in case. _

_ The look on his face morphed from pleased to bewildered as he touched his leg and his hand came away sticky with blood. He looked more shocked than pained, his voice whispering out: _

_ “I’m bleeding?...” _

Then,

_ Lucifer stood in her kitchen, his hands behind his back as she confessed to feeling more open, more vulnerable around him. Able to confide in him. The look of confusion and dawning understanding in his dark eyes as he gazed back at her. The soft light that entered his gaze as his voice grew disquiet, like he’d just had a major revelation. _

_ “It seems you make me vulnerable as well, Detective…” _

She shook her head, unable to cope with the implications of her memories, burying her face into her knees, her hair falling into a golden curtain around her as she continued to sob.

She just… she didn’t know what to think anymore.

From somewhere several blocks away from Chloe’s apartment, Michael closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He ran a hand through his mess of black curls before putting his hands together to pray to one of his brothers. A few seconds later and a rush of air, Michael opened his eyes and turned with a strained smile, his blue eyes softening.

“Gabriel, Father sent me. I need your help with something…”

*~*~*~*~*

Somewhere across town, in an older gothic style Catholic Church, five priests stood together before the altar, the pews silent and empty on a quiet Wednesday afternoon. Four of the priests seemed shaken, unsure how to handle the fifth.

In the center of the others, Father Kinley stood unmoved as he spoke to them quietly.

“My brothers I speak truly, Satan is  _ here _ and walks amongst us! I was confronted and stopped by one of his demons in the guise of an angel when I tried to exorcise him this past Friday. No doubt he is recovering his strength and plotting his revenge. We must find him and finish the exorcism before it’s too late!”

One of the younger priests, a man in his late thirties shook his head, lips pursed into a tight line.

“With all due respect Father Kinley, Lucifer Morningstar is just another eccentric living within the city. I’ve served in Las Vegas, men like him are a dime a dozen.”

The shortest of the priests, an elderly man most likely in his late seventies, with a wizened grey beard and nearly no hair left on his head, glared at the younger priest with disapproval.

“Father Kinley is a brother from the  _ Vatican _ , Father Braisley. Surely we don’t doubt the  _ Pope _ in these modern times?”

Father Braisley lowered his head, cheeks flushed crimson, his bible clutched in his hands.

“... Forgive me Father Gomer, I just find it hard to believe—”

“Well isn’t that the point of faith, Father Braisley?” Another of the priests spoke up, this one in his sixties spoke next, putting a hand on the younger priests shoulder. “Doubt is a natural part of our lives, it’s overcoming doubt and reinvesting in our  _ faith _ that separates us from others. If the Vatican has sent Father Kinley here, we must do our God given duty as shepherds and protect our flock from this threat.”

Father Kinley offered a tight smile to this third priest, nodding his assent. “Wisely spoken Father Dund. Father Rist? Have you any thoughts?”

The fourth priest, a man in his forties shook his head, holding his bible but not speaking. Father Kinley eyed him carefully but dismissed him for now.

“Good. We must begin looking for him, I doubt he has left this area—”

Behind them, the doors to the church opened softly and a petite young woman, probably in her early to mid twenties, walked in. Her head was up and she adjusted the glasses on her nose. Her hands were lost in the black sweater she wore, her straight black hair cut short into a bob just below her ears. Her shoes made only a whisper of sound against the marble floor of the church.

Father Braisley stepped forward, offering a small smile.

“I’m sorry miss, the church is currently closed. Is there something I can help you with quickly, or set up an appointment?”

The young girl surveyed the priests, her dark eyes flickering over each of them.

“I’m looking for Father Kinley? Is he here?” Her voice was soft, unassuming.

Kinley raised a brow and stepped towards her.

“I am Father Kinley. What do you need my child?”

The young woman focused on him, glancing once more to survey the priests.

“Well I have a few things to talk about. You see, someone was really misguided, and they thought they knew what my Dad wanted. They ended up hurting my brother, really really badly. My Dad wants me to speak with them, to Show them how displeased He is with them. But I thought I’d ask first.” Her dark eyes bored into him, and the priest had to restrain himself from stepping back, her gaze held  _ weight _ to it that he hadn’t expected. “What should I do to show him how badly he erred?”

The other four priests looked at each other, brows furrowed in confusion.

Kinley shook himself and stepped forward, offering a small smile.

“Well it would depend on the circumstances and what you had in mind. I’m sure we can schedule a time to speak more later, what’s your name, child?”

Her eyes flashed as she drew herself to her full height, and her voice lost all semblance of nonchalance, an icy rage coating her words into a razor sharp edge.

“Azrael.”

Father Braisley sucked in a breath and stumbled backwards as large black wings erupted from behind the woman’s back, spreading across the pews to their full extent. The midnight wings were at least fifteen feet across, the feathers gleaming in the light and seeming to  _ absorb _ it. All the candles in the room flickered and the overhead lights seemed to grow dim.

Father Dund sank to the floor, his back against a pew and pulled out his rosary while Father Rist leaned against the altar, his bible dropping from his hands. Father Gomer’s eyes widened as he took a shuffling step backwards.

But Father Kinley… he sank to his knees before the Angel of Death, stunned and confused.

“I-I don’t understand—” his voice shook with fear.

Azrael took a menacing step forward, her eyes focused on the priest before her.

“Don’t you? I already told you. You  _ hurt _ my brother. You  _ angered _ my Father. You  _ dared _ to attack one of his Firstborn children. When my brother Gabriel revealed himself and intercepted you, you  _ still _ sought ways to further  _ torture _ and harm  _ my  _ **_brother!_ ** ” Azrael took another step forward, darkness seeming to grow around her, blotting out the lights. When she was only a few steps from Kinley, she raised her eyes to the other four priests, surveying each one in turn. Her lips twisted into a serious scowl. 

Father Kinley shook his head, eyes blown wide in fear.

“I was doing God’s work! Ridding the world of the Beast!”

Sharp black eyes bored into him, her lips twisting into a snarl.

“ _ Samael the Lucifer is still a Son of God and above mortal Judgment! Only Father can judge and command him!” _

She shook her head in disgust, turning to the four cowering priests.

“I am Azrael, the Angel of Death. You four have heard the words of this priest and allowed hatred and fear to take root in your hearts, distrusting and blaspheming the will of God my Father!” Darkness began to grow in her eyes, her skin seemingly growing paler, more gaunt like a corpse. Her cheekbones hollowed out and the pigment left her skin. To the five priests, it seemed that her face had become replaced with a skull, as a scythe appeared in her hands, towering over her and her modern outfit was replaced with strange robes of obsidian and silver. She hefted the scythe with one hand and pointed it towards the four cowering priests, the four foot blade glittering in the dim light. “As it was in Sodom and Gomorrah the unrighteous will be punished and the righteous left free! So Sayeth the Lord!” 

Gripping the scythe with both hands she swept it over Kinley’s head and a wave of darkness shot forth, rushing over the four priests. With screams cut short, three priests dissolved into piles of ash and salt, and Father Braisley alone was left standing, his petrified eyes stared at the Angel in front of him, his chest rising and falling in panic.

Azrael studied him, her scythe disappearing and her voice softening. The other worldly robes and skull visage faded, like it had never been. 

“Go. My Father is merciful, as he is righteous. Do not  _ ever _ seek to harm another of my Fathers children again.  _ Go. _ ”

Without another word Father Braisley bolted for the door, his hands and legs shaking so badly he stumbled and nearly knocked over one of the candelabras, he struggled to open the door to the outside but managed to finally force it open.

Azrael looked down into the eyes of the terrified mortal and smiled down at him. Her smile was as cold as death and all teeth. She reached out and touched his shoulder with an iron grip.

“Now, you and I are going on a road trip. Don’t worry. I’ve not come for your soul yet, Father had something else in mind first.”

Too petrified to move, Kinley didn’t even have time to beg before Azrael flapped her massive wings once, and the two disappeared. The church was left empty, save for three sets of bibles, three broken rosaries, and three piles of ash and salt.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, has anyone figured out where the chapter titles come from yet? ;)
> 
> I did some preliminary research about some other religions beliefs on the Devil and the history of it, so that’s where some of Michaels rant comes from.
> 
> As always I greatly appreciate any and all comments! Kudos too! Let me know what you guys think down below!


	9. The Hell Inside

On Thursday morning, Chloe didn’t show up for work.

Dan sat at his desk, his pencil gripped tightly in his hand as his leg bounced up and down beneath the desk. He couldn’t stop it, he was too full of pent up energy. Even when he managed to stop bouncing his leg, he found himself fiddling more with things on his desk. Moving the stapler over to the other side, rearranging his pencils, fidgeting with the framed picture of Trix. He couldn’t sit still, and the burning pain behind his eyes reminded him of how desperately tired he was.

The discovery he had made with Ella at the penthouse had haunted his dreams all last night. He and Ella had combed through the penthouse, looking for fingerprints, foot prints, anything to give them more of an idea of what had happened. Of  _ who _ had been there. Ella had taken samples from both grilled cheese sandwiches and from the wine glasses. She had promised to get back to him when she found the results. As seconds turned into minutes that turned into hours, Dan couldn’t help but the mixture of dread and anticipation that sat in his gut, twisting into a nauseatingly painful cocktail.

His leg started to bounce again under his desk, hands clasped tightly in front of him with his elbows on table, his forehead resting against his hands. Angrily he wiped at his face, rubbing his eyes and willing the burn of sleep deprivation to leave him alone.

He was bouncy enough without coffee, so that small reprieve was out.

He thought through the scene at the penthouse again. The one thing he couldn’t figure out was the feathers. It looked like somebody had taken a pillow and gutted it, scattering it’s insides to the  _ outside. _

Dan shuddered and forced  _ that _ particular train of thought far into the back corner of his mind right next to fucking Malcolm and Palmetto. No need to conjure up images of a different kind of gutting going on.

Dan forced his leg to stop bouncing and began fidgeting with the things on his desk again.

Across the bullpen, Ella began to make her way towards him, face pale and grim. Her eyes were wide as she settled across from him, her knees bouncing with nervous energy. Dan settled back and let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding in.

“Ella, did you find anything?”

The young scientist nodded, her eyes blown wide as her bouncing increased. Her voice was a hushed whisper, trying not to attract anyone else’s attention.

“Oh you bet I did. It’s… it’s insane! I don’t understand it… I-I mean I do but I  _ don’t  _ ya know? I didn’t even believe the results at first, I ran them like ten times trying to double check and triple check and, and yea, okay, you get it. But it doesn’t make any sense! If my findings are accurate, which like, ten checks later they have to be right? There’s no way we wouldn’t have found a body, I don’t understand it! How could anyone...” she trailed off, helplessly as she looked at Dan. Her voice had raised a bit over the course of her rant but she lowered her voice when she saw another officer looking at them. 

Dan shook his head, the feeling of dread growing like molten lead in his gut.

“Understand what Ella? What exactly did you find?”

Ella bit her lip, glancing around. “Two of the world's deadliest poisons. Like, brush against not even a full  _ gram _ of this stuff and you’re dead within, at max, two days. Minimum? A few  _ hours _ .”

Dan sat back, his eyes wide. What the actual fuck had Chloe gotten herself into?

“So what you’re saying—”

Ella nodded, her eyes still wide, “Yea. Somebody ingested a cocktail of literal death. Like, one of those? Paralytic. But not the movie version of not being able to move for a few hours, but like your  _ organs _ become paralyzed. Most victims die because their  _ hearts _ are paralyzed. Some because their lungs just… freeze and don’t work. The other. The other just… destroys the body within 48 hours  _ max. _ There’s no  _ way _ anyone who ingested this can survive it. And I… I found mitochondrial bacteria on some of the shattered glass. No match yet, and it seems a bit weird but… it’s not Chloe’s, but hers is on the intact glass.”

Her big brown eyes are full of grief, such a startling contrast to her normal happy exterior that it takes Dan a second to overcome the shock of seeing her so downcast to focus on her words.

That molten dread had now turned into a very solid weight.

“You’re saying it’s only a matter of time until we find a body?”

Ella winced and tears filled her eyes, trying to steady her breathing valiantly, unwilling to break down in the middle of the precinct.

“It would be a miracle to find him alive, Dan.”  
  


*~*~*~*

“Bloody  _ hell!  _ Raphi that  _ hurts!” _

A very familiar, very annoyed, British voice shouted at his sister.

Raphael didn’t even spare him a glance as she continued to poke and prod at his wings, checking each healing wound with her typical surgical precision.

“I would be more worried if it didn’t. The tendons are healing together nicely, still no flying for you for the next week, just to be safe. I’ll of course need to check them again in two days, just to make sure. Also, no putting them away. They don’t need to be cooped up and putting them away may hurt them further.”

Lucifer rolled his eyes and turned his head away in disgust. The feathers that were still intact fluffing up in indignation. There were… patches of his wings that were bare, making him shiver. They’d had to remove the broken pinions and coverts, to better heal the damaged flesh beneath after what the priest had done.

Dear  _ Dad _ but he wanted a drink.

“If you  _ insist _ on me parading about like a sodding  _ plucked chicken, _ then can I at least have some whiskey? Mazikeen knows where I keep my favorite bottle, even if she pretends she doesn’t. Or a decent scotch would do. Bourbon? I’ll even share, anything but more bloody water.”

Raphael rolled her eyes and continued to gently poke and prod at the healing wounds, ignoring his continued hisses and vitriolic curses spewing from his lips.

“One more day without, even with Divine healing your insides need a bit more time to recover from the poison. And water is good for you.”

Lucifer snorts and takes a sip of his glass, desperately aching for something much stronger.

“Good for me? What’s  _ good _ for me is a stiff drink and a bed full of warm bodies to help me  _ forget _ !” His voice rises in his anger, and he hurtles the glass across the room. The crystal shatters on impact and falls to the ground with a soft tinkling.

“ _ Lucifer! _ ” Amenadiel’s voice booms through the room as he looks at his brother with reproach. “You shouldn’t break Linda’s glassware. Destroying your own is fine, destroying hers is rude.”

The Devil rolls his eyes but offers his doctor a small, properly impish grin.

“So sorry Doctor! I’ll make sure to replace it. Wouldn’t want my dear brother to get his panties in a twist. Dad knows he wouldn’t know how to untwist them and keep the stick out of his ass.”

Amenadiel rolls his eyes, not offended by his brother's antics in the least. It gives him hope. Maybe Luci would be able to move past this better than he thought.

Linda, infinitely wise Linda, who’s had years of practice reading and understanding Lucifer’s thoughts and actions, feels her heart sink. She offers him a patient smile.

“I appreciate it Lucifer. Once, uh, Raphael is done, would you like to talk?” And damn if getting used to more angels isn’t disconcerting, but she’ll handle that later, between herself and a bottle of wine. Maybe two.

Lucifer ignores her and begins to pick at his nails, his sister still carding through his wings. His chest is wrapped tightly in thick bandages, with just the faintest hints of pink dotted across his front. He still sits on the table, their makeshift operating table, for his twice daily ‘exams’ with Raphael. And though he refuses to admit or acknowledge it, he relies on the gentle and discreet help of his siblings to get on and off the blasted thing, his body still weak from the poison.

He’d woken sporadically, after his initial Frankenstein moment, barely conscious for more than ten minutes at a time as he’d slowly recovered. But today he’d woken up feeling marginally better. Enough to sit up on his own and manage the steps from the couch to the table. Gabriel had popped in a few times, running back and forth between Earth and the Silver City. Or maybe he was wandering somewhere else. Lucifer didn’t ask, Gabriel didn’t volunteer. And although slightly jilted, Lucifer had managed to capture his brother's hand at one point and squeeze tightly, a silent show of gratitude. Gabriel had smiled brilliantly and wandered off with a bounce in his step, and Lucifer had made gagging noises and mocked his brother's cheerfulness.

Raphael had stayed by his side, as had Amenadiel. The latter unwilling to leave his brother unprotected just in case, and the former monitoring him for any unexpected downturns. Linda had only ventured out to keep her appointments with her clients, while Mazikeen had taken to disappearing for hours on end, always returning around dinner time with fresh blood on her hands, though she insisted she hadn’t killed anyone, or gone after Decker.

Lucifer sighed as he shifted on the couch. Even his angelic healing wasn’t able to completely erase the lingering aches and pains he felt throughout his body. The poison had done a number on him, and he bloody well knew it. For all the concern his siblings were showing him, as if  _ that _ wasn’t a marvel in and of itself, none had dared to ask about what happened. He wasn’t even sure if he knew how to answer them, if they did ask. He settled back against the couch, closing his eyes and yearning for a glass of whiskey. Or a bottle. Or two. Or three…

Doctor Linda was here though, and she’d said she wanted to speak, so that probably meant they were due for a good long session poking open his wounds and spilling his guts onto the floor and crushing them up into paste.

Mazikeen would surely love that little analogy…

Raphael kept hovering over him, barely ever moving more than ten feet away at any given time, like she was worried he would suddenly double over in pain and go back to being unresponsive on the table. Amenadiel would wander into the room every half hour, trying to appear nonchalant, but, well, he’s Amenadiel. He’s a shitty liar and a mother hen at the best of times. His overt concern was grating and he kept watching like he was going to hug Lucifer at the slightest provocation which was frankly disturbing. 

Lucifer didn’t know how to deal with his siblings… well,  _ caring. _ It had been an exorbitant amount of time since he and any of his siblings had been on speaking terms. Even before his rebellion, he’d grown distant with many of them. They’d not understood his discontent and he’d not understood their blind faith. The days of their youth flying together, feasting and fighting together, singing together, all of it was long over even before he Fell. Now with three of his siblings hovering around, his demon and ex-best friend trying to discreetly worm her way back into his life, and his therapist all surrounding him at all times, all shooting him what they no doubt thought were inconspicuous glances just further irritating him. Now with all that in the background, he couldn’t help but to think about the one thing none of them tried asking him! 

His mind flashed back to that night, looking at it with fresh eyes. He felt… stupid. Her hands had been gripping her shirt sleeves, her eyes had bags under them and the whites of her eyes were red. She’d obviously been sleep deprived and terrified but had he cared? No! Because he thought… he thought he had a chance. At happiness. With her. How bloody stupid he’d been.

He’d held onto the idea that she was sent by his Father for some nefarious purpose, to kill him, manipulate him back to Hell. Torment him with the fact she was mortal, wait for her to return his love and then rip her away from him.

He’d never expected  _ her  _ to be the one to manipulate him. 

He couldn’t even remember all that had happened that night outside of pain. He had fuzzy flashes of her face and an old man, he knew he’d been snarky to the priest, though he couldn’t recall his exact words. He just hadn’t wanted to let the old bastard know how much pain he was in. He… remembered her face turning away from him. Like she couldn’t stand the sight of him.

_ ‘It’s true… it’s all true!’ _

He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. Right. Nothing had changed. She  _ couldn’t  _ bear the sight of him. He was a monster. She knew that, so she reacted as any reasonable human ought to and tried to get rid of said monster. And Chloe Decker was reasonable to a fault, her logic the only thing she had believed in for years before he came along and mucked it up for her.

Linda glanced over as she heard him moving, her heart dropping even further to the ground seeing him hunched over and rubbing at his face.

His heart clenched painfully in his chest and he found it hard to breath. He still resisted the full implication. She couldn’t have… she couldn’t have. Not Chloe, who put her daughter above everything else in her life. Not Chloe who had turned down the opportunity for revenge against the man who had murdered her father. Not Chloe who practically breathed for justice and good.  _ Not his Chloe _ who had smiled with tears in her eyes and kissed him, her hand on his cheek caressing the skin through the stubble and murmured so sweetly  _ ‘Not to me, you aren’t the Devil to me’  _ and he had eaten those words like a man starved. He had knelt at the altar of her feet, blinded by his love and admiration for this one, miraculous woman. He put his head in his hands, unnoticed by the others as his shoulders began to shake with suppressed laughter. His eyes wide as he stared at his feet. No one noticed his growing hysteria.

How the bloody hell was he supposed to feel?! The woman he loved tried to bloody well kill him! Had stood by as that damned priest carved him up like a bloody Thanksgiving Turkey! Had watched while his wings had been  _ butchered— _

Lucifer let out a roar and stood up, grabbing a lamp from the side table and hurtling it across the room. He let out a choked, hysterical laugh as everyone jumped and looked at him. Tears gathered in his eyes but he refused,  _ refused!  _ To let them fall as he stood there laughing maniacally, the shattered lamp a testament to his waning control. Amenadiel was beside him in an instance, lips turned down into a disapproving frown, opening his mouth undoubtedly about to berate his little brother for destroying more property, but Linda beat him to it.

The petite blonde stepped forward and touched Lucifer’s shoulder, meeting his eyes calmly. Lucifer stared down at her, his chest heaving as his anger simmered beneath his skin, his teeth bared in a smile that was more of a snarl, his shoulders still shaking with repressed laughter.

“The Detective had the right idea, my good doctor! You shouldn’t sully yourself with  _ the Beast! _ You wouldn’t want me to lead you into temptation hmm? No chance of getting into the pearly gates!” His eyes were wide and his smile so large he felt like his face would rip apart. Raphael made a strangled sound behind him, but Amenadiel stopped her from moving forward. “Can’t blame the Detective for doing the logical thing! I know you’re all bloody well thinking it, just dying to ask what happened!”

Linda looked into his dark brown eyes, her own soft and full of understanding.

“Is that what you want to do Lucifer? Do you want to tell us what happened?” There was no reproach in her words, only infinite kindness.

Lucifer felt sick and tried to shove that thought far, far away. He held onto his anger with both hands. His anger had preserved him in Hell, it could preserve him here. It was all he’d had for eons.

“Do you want to know Linda? Do you want to hear how she came up to the penthouse? How I cooked her favorite food for her and set out wine for us?”

Linda only sat down slowly across from him, ignoring the shattered remains of the lamp as Amenadiel and Raphael faded into the background.

“If you want to talk about it, I’m willing to listen.”

Lucifer laughed, a desperate, unhinged sound as he began pacing in front of her, like a wounded animal.

“Oh it was lovely! Candles, food, wine! I went to go put on some music for us and wouldn’t you know it! I came back and toasted to her and she had added something extra into the wine while I was gone! And I was worried about  _ her! _ I thought someone spiked the bottle and then… then I realized she was  _ watching! _ Like she was waiting for something to happen! And I realized, she’d done something to it, to me!” He threw his hands into the air, grabbing a book off the table and chucking it against a wall.

Linda noted absently that the wall didn’t dent, so he was holding back his strength still, which she could only take as a good thing.

“I didn’t even really realize it, I realized she’d done something to it, to me, but even when I blacked out and woke up suspended I hadn’t really realized it yet!” He ran his hands through his hair, snarling at the painful tug of his scabbed over wounds. “I bloody loved her!” With his confession, the anger left him like a vacuum had sucked all his air from his lungs. He was left cold and empty. His eyes watered and his fists clenched at his sides as he fell to his knees. His voice was a broken whisper.

“I _loved_ her Linda… and she  _ betrayed _ me…”

Unable to stop herself, Linda slid from her chair to kneel in front of him, she put her hands on his cheek, her own eyes glimmering with tears as she allowed him to see her own pain and betrayal. The anger she felt on his behalf.

“I know, Lucifer. I know.”

His face screwed up as he reached for her and pulled her into a tight embrace, burying his face into her shoulder as he wept quietly. Not huge, gasping sobs, but silent tears falling from his eyes and nearly inaudible ragged breaths as he struggled to breath through his grief.

Amenadiel closed his eyes as he felt his own tears welling, turning to hug his younger sister tightly. The two angels held each other tightly, struggling not to join their brother in weeping. He was mildly surprised when Raphael pulled out of his arms and went to kneel beside their brother. Her gentle touch to his hair had him pulling back slightly. Raphael brushed the errant curls from his eyes and leaned forward, resting their foreheads together. She began to hum softly under her breath, holding her brother's head to hers.

Linda scooted back, watching in a strange mixture of curiosity and fascination as Amenadiel took her spot, his wings erupting from his back to wrap around his siblings tightly, something he hadn’t done since they were all very young and new to the world. The humming grew louder as Amenadiel joined his deep baritone to Raphaels soprano, and slowly words were added into the lilting music. Words of a language Linda had never heard before but instinctively knew was their native tongue.

Tears fell from Lucifer's eyes anew as the warmth and  _ love _ he hadn’t felt in so long began to wash over him gently. Then he felt it, his eyes snapping wide open as he felt the rush of his siblings' minds brushing against his. He hadn’t even remembered the echo of the feeling. The aching emptiness he had felt and learned to forget suddenly being filled once more with the voices of his siblings murmuring to him and to each other. Not even Amenadiel or Raphael but the entire  _ Host _ was once more in his mind, musical voices filling the void that had grown and he’d tried desperately to fill with the loud music of his night club and the many people he surrounded himself with. He began to weep again, though his lips rose in a tremulous smile as Amenadiel and Raphael continued to sing to him soothingly, Raphael gently stroking his curls as she had in their youth, and Amenadiel rubbing his back just between his wings.

One voice rose above the others, coming to the forefront of his mind and Lucifer began to weep in earnest.

_ ‘I have missed you, my Twin…’ _

Lucifer could do nothing but weep while surrounded by his brother's wings, resting against his sister's strength. 

Linda watched from the side, her own breathing ragged as she looked on, closing her eyes and trying to overcome her own grief. Chloe was her  _ friend _ . Whether she knew it yet or not, Chloe had done damage to more than just Lucifer. The doctor felt… bereft. Perhaps if she had reached out, rather than waiting for Chloe to talk to her, this entire mess could have ended differently. Maybe if she hadn’t been so wrapped up in her own life, if she’d just gone to see Chloe after Cain’s death. If she’d visited her after she returned.

If, if, if. If only she had done  _ more. _

She just hoped Chloe would realize her mistake in time to keep from bringing down rain and damnation upon the entire world by doing something even more stupid.

From the stories she’d heard, and the brief bits of the Bible she read, God’s Wrath was something to be avoided. 

Shaking herself from her thoughts, she quietly moved to the kitchen, giving the celestial family a bit of time to themselves. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t rid herself of the guilt inside her heart. Maybe she hadn’t been able to do more to prevent this, but she could do some damage control now. Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, Linda gathered her resolve and her courage. She was a therapist, she dealt with people's problems all the time. Lately she’d become a therapist with a specialization in ‘Celestial Bullshit Family Drama’ and this… this would just be another piece of that whole catastrophe. 

Double checking that the celestials seemed to have everything under control with Lucifer, she picked her keys up off the counter and met Maze outside, the demon riding up the driveway on her bike.

“Hey, Maze, I don’t think you want to go in right now.”

Maze settled back on the seat of her back, frowning at her best friend. Her eyes were sharp and wary, lips pursed tightly into a thin line.

“What’s going on in there?”

Linda gave a weak chuckle. “Lucifer and his family are… experiencing a lot of emotions right now.”

Maze grimaced, making gagging noises in the back of her throat.

“Figures. I’m not going in there until they’re done… ugh…  _ hugging _ and shit.” She gave Linda a once over, noting the keys in her hand. “Where are you going?”

Linda hesitated. She knew, she  _ knew, _ that what she was thinking of doing could cause more damage to Lucifer but… she needed this for herself. 

“I’m… going to go talk to Chloe.”

Maze snarled and got off her bike, crowding the therapist with kindling bloodlust in her eyes.

“What the hell Linda?! Why the fuck would you go talk to that bitch?!”

Linda squared her shoulders and met her friends glare head on. Maybe a few months ago she wouldn’t have been able to stand up to a literal demon from hell, but, well, this was also her best friend. She wasn’t afraid of her. She also was smart enough to bite back her retort that _Maze_ had also betrayed him to Cain. Attempted to drive him _insane_ so he’d go back to Hell.

Now wasn’t the time for that can of worms, but it was coming.

“Because she’s my  _ friend _ and I feel  _ guilty _ Maze! I keep asking myself ‘what if I had reached out’, I may have been able to help… I don’t know, fix this before she went off the deep end? Kept her from running away? I just… it’s eating me up inside that my inaction may have  _ caused _ this!” Tears formed in her eyes and she looked down, trying to control her ragged breathing. With everything going on she hadn’t been able to process the past few days. The sight of Lucifer lying so still on her dining room table, the bloody pentagram on his chest and his mutilated wings—

Linda let out a choked sob and looked away, trying desperately not to lose it completely.

“I chose inaction last time, I don’t want to do that again. She was our friend and we weren’t there for her! Maybe if we were Lucifer wouldn’t have almost—”

Maze grimaced but her eyes softened and she hesitantly wrapped her arms around her best friend.  _ Fucking human emotions… _

“This is not your fault, none of it. She ran off before any of us could reach her and she refused to meet with any of us. This  _ isn’t your fault _ so stop feeling guilty for shit you didn’t do.”

Linda sniffled and buried her face into Maze’s shoulder, breathing in her signature scent of leather and something metallic. Probably old blood. That would be so typical for Maze. She wrapped her arms around the demon's waist, clinging to her tightly, resolved to get as much comfort as the demon was willing to offer.

Maze sighed uncomfortably but rested her chin on the blonde head, closing her eyes.

“... If going to see her will make you feel less guilty, then fine, we can go. But you have to tell Lucifer first. He doesn’t need you sneaking around.”

Linda pulled back, staring up at Maze in confusion.

“ _ We? _ Maze, you are not coming with.”

Maze scowled down at her, arms falling to her sides as she took a step back.

“And why is that?”

Linda just looked at her, rubbing the last of her tears away.

“Because I’m going to  _ talk _ to her, not  _ rip her limb from limb _ .”

Maze huffed, crossing her arms and unwilling to admit how close to home that hit.

“Yea, well, I’m not letting you go alone. I won’t even rip her arms off.”

“Or her legs.”

“.... just a little pull?”

“No Mazikeen. No pulling or ripping of any limbs.”

“....Fuck. Fine.”

“No punching or stabbing either.”

“... Spoil sport.”

Linda smiled and let out a watery laugh, scrubbing at her eyes and smiling sheepishly at her friend.

“Thanks, Maze.”

Maze grunted and rolled her eyes.

“Whatever. Come on, let’s go. You can make lunch while the angels finish their…  _ emotional moment. _ ” She shuddered with disgust as she trailed Linda back into the house.

Linda’s laugh was a bit more bright as she walked back in, keeping her voice down.

“Sure, but you can help me still. I’ll let you cut things.”

Maze perked up, her eyes glittering and she flicked out her knives, spinning them in her hands.

“Awesome!”

Linda rolled her eyes.

“Kitchen knives Maze. Not yours. I’m not getting old blood in our food.”

The demon scowled and tucked her blades away, reluctantly picking up a kitchen knife as she and Linda set about making dinner. Well, Linda would make dinner. Maze would just slice and dice. It was about the only thing she was allowed to do in the kitchen.

Linda smiled, feeling the knot of guilt loosen a bit as she worked with Maze in the kitchen. She could still hear the quiet humming of the celestials in her living room and it filled her with a sense of peace. She would still insist on checking up on Chloe, even if they couldn’t remain friends, she wasn’t willing to let their friendship end without at least saying goodbye and trying to help Chloe work through her problems.

Things would work out, she told herself firmly. They would weather this storm. Together. After all, that’s what friends were for right?

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> I hope you like this one! The amount of love this has received in the kudos and comments help me to keep motivated as I write this story! Not to mention the opinions and comments you guys leave that make me pause and consider new angles and dynamics of the characters in the show that I hadn’t thought of before. Seriously, this is only possible because you guys keep spurring me on!
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy :)


	10. Justice Isn’t Blind

On Friday morning, Dan stood in the break room staring absently at the coffee in his hand. His mind was a jumbled mess of the case at work and… the case he and Ella were keeping under wraps as of right now. It had been two days since he and Ella had made that gruesome discovery. Two days since he heard from Chloe. She hadn’t come into work since he dropped her off Wednesday, and she hadn’t responded to his calls or texts. It hadn’t even looked like she’d been home when he stopped by. He and Ella had tried not to disturb the crime scene and they’d taken minimal evidence from the scene, enough that if this… if it ever came to involving the authorities, no one would notice pieces of the scene had been missing. It all left a bitter taste in his mouth. He and Ella had been trying to get a hold of Lucifer to no avail. He’d tried calling Chloe’s cell but she wasn’t picking up, even though he’d just seen her the day before. It only caused the pit in his stomach to grow. 

He closed his eyes and practically inhaled the coffee, letting the bitter flavor soothe some of his nerves. They needed to find Lucifer… and he fuckin’ hoped they found  _ him _ and not his body. Fuck. The guy was a prick but he… he was decent, in his own way. Dan felt his throat grow tight and took a deep breath. Faced with the disappearance of the nightclub owner, he was forced to admit that he’d been unfair to the man. Blaming Charlotte’s death on him when Pierce had been the real killer… it was unfair. But dammit he had just been so… so fucking angry! Lucifer could have spoken up sooner, he could have warned them…

But Chloe had told him later that Lucifer had  _ tried _ and been shut down.

Dan rubbed the bridge of his nose, taking another deep inhale of his coffee. 

Fuck, it didn’t matter. He’d find Lucifer, and he’d try to figure out what the fuck had happened in the penthouse. He pulled out his phone, pulling up Amenadiel’s number. He hadn’t tried reaching out to Lucifer’s brother, to his own  _ friend _ but… if Amenadiel didn’t know, there was no guarantee he’d let them work on it on their own. Fuck if it was Dan’s sibling missing, he’d be pissed they hadn’t gotten the rest of the LAPD involved yet. 

If it was his sibling, he’d want to know.

Fuck.

Resolving himself to the inevitable argument, Dan pulled out his phone and pulled up Amenadiel’s number, his thumb hovering over the dial button when there was a knock on the door. Startled, he put his phone away and looked up to find a man in his late twenties or early thirties looking at him, his pale face set with startling emerald eyes and golden brown hair. His smile was kind but there was something sharp and calculating in his gaze. He was dressed smartly in a black suit and tie, stepping forward to offer his hand.

“Detective Espinoza?”

Dan blinked before shaking himself and taking the man’s hand in a firm shake. The skin was surprisingly warm to the touch.

“Uh, yea, yea that’s me. Can I help you?”

The man smiled again, tucking his hands into his pockets and his jacket moved, flashing a badge that had Dan wishing for a bit of whiskey in his coffee like Lucifer always did.

The fucking  _ Feds _ .

“Yes, I believe so. I’m Special Agent Gabriel Evangelo. I’m with the FBI investigating the disappearance of a Mr. Lucifer Morningstar. We’ve attempted to get into contact with Detective Chloe Decker but been unable to reach her. I’ve been told to coordinate our efforts with the LAPD, seeing as Mr. Morningstar worked as a consultant here. My partner is currently procuring a warrant to search Mr. Morningstar’s residence.”

The pit in Dan’s stomach bottomed out as he stared at the FBI agent in front of him. He tried to control his expression but by the way the agent's eyes tracked his movements, he doubted he’d been successful of hiding his unease.

“Uhm, yea… it’s been weird, I haven’t heard from Lucifer in a few days, not since last Friday when he was at work, and I haven’t seen Chloe since Wednesday. She wasn’t feeling well so I took her home.”

Agent Evangelo nodded and made himself a cup of coffee.

“I see, and you haven’t attempted to visit Mr. Morningstar at his residence?”

Dan hid his discomfort by taking another sip of his coffee. He looked out into the bullpen and closed his eyes. He didn’t want to lie, he was sick and tired of being a dirty cop, of hiding everything and he promised himself that he wouldn’t hide this… whatever it was.

“Could we talk about this later? I don’t want to talk about this right here.”

Gabriel’s emerald eyes flashed and he straightened, stepping closer to the detective. Dan met the man’s stare and was horrified to feel a similar pull on his mind like he did when Lucifer went all weird with his ‘what do you desire’ mojo. He felt the words bubbling up on his tongue.

“No.  _ Listen to me _ , Detective Espinoza. You need to tell me the truth.”

Dan let out a small grunt and his eyes widened.

“I went there yesterday and it was a scene from a fuckin’ horror movie!”

Gabriel stepped back, his gaze broken and Dan felt himself wilt under the sudden release of pressure, but his anger rose. This wasn’t fucking  _ normal!  _ His heart rate picked up and he backed away from the man in front of him, putting a hand on the counter to steady himself.

_ What the actual fuck was that?! _

Agent Evangelo cleared his throat, though his eyes seemed to be tracking Dan’s every movement.

“I see. Detective Espinoza, I’d like to ask you not to leave town any time soon while the FBI investigates the disappearance. I’ll be speaking to you again no doubt. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to meet with your Captain.”

He brushed past the startled man, heading towards the Captain's office in the middle of the bullpen. Dan could only watch in confusion as the daily routine of the other officers continued on. What had just happened? And how had the FBI gotten involved? This wasn’t their usual gig. Dan pulled out his phone again and shook his head. There was too much weird shit going on. Some weird ass religious ritual had been taking place at the penthouse, Chloe was spazzing out and not responding to anyone, there were bloody feathers at the crime scene, and now an FBI agent gets involved with the same weird mojo powers as Lucifer.

Resolve filled him as he texted Trixie’s babysitter to pick her up from school today. He fished his keys out of his pocket and went over to the Lab. Ella was puttering around as usual, jamming out to her music as she looked over her newest evidence.

“Hey, Ella, I’m gonna take off early. I’m going to head to see Amenadiel, tell him what’s going on, figure out if he knows anything.”

Ella turned to him and frowned, biting her lip anxiously.

“You haven’t talked to him yet? I figured you’d have called him this morning.”

Dan sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking down at his shoes.

“I know, I should have. I’ve been thinking about it and just trying to work up the courage. It’s shit when it’s your job to tell strangers their family member is missing. But… Amenadiel is my friend. This is honestly worse.”

Her face filled with compassion and she opened her arms.

“Come here buddy! You need a trademark Ella hug”

Dan blushed and waved his hands in front of him.

“Ella, I’m fine. Really!”

But the bubbly woman only shook her head and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him for all she was worth.

“Nope! No negotiating. You need a hug, you get a hug.”

Dan sighed but slowly wrapped his arms around her too, his throat feeling tight as he let himself enjoy the warmth of her embrace. His heart ached for Charlotte, he’d give anything to hold her in his arms again. She’d been trying so hard to live her life to the fullest, trying to make amends with her past and be a force of good. He just wanted her back, he wanted her to be smiling down at him as he tried to live up to the example she’d set. He just wanted—

He coughed and stepped back, trying to subtly rub the tears from his eyes. Ella made no motion that she’d seen them, turning her head just enough to make it seem like she was engrossed with her work.

Bless that woman.

“Thanks, Ella. I uh, guess I did need one. Anyway I’ll see you later.” He cleared his throat, trying to dislodge the lump that seemed permanently stuck there.

“No problem Dan! Call me if you need anything okay?” Ella gifted him with a bright beatific smile, giving him one last quick hug before he left the lab and headed for his car. He hadn’t really seen Amenadiel lately but they had spoken briefly a week or two ago. He’d been staying with Linda Martin, Lucifer's therapist. Apparently those two were kind of a thing? He didn’t know for sure, it sounded complicated, but like they were trying to work things out.

Taking a deep breath, Dan got into his car, turned it on, and drove out of the garage. He typed the address he’d pulled up into his GPS and tried not to think about, well, anything.  
  


*~*~*~*~*

Gabriel walked out of the captains office feeling both irritated and satisfied, if that was even possible. The meeting had gone very well, as far as he understood. The captain would be sending over a squad car to check out the penthouse within the next few hours. Chloe Decker was banned from the case, though he hadn’t been able to get her suspended without ‘proof’ that she was involved. A minor set back, but not much. Detective Espinoza wouldn’t be allowed to head the investigation, due to potentially holding a conflict of interest, and Gabriel had successfully passed himself off as a Federal Agent. 

Thank Dad for the internet and Netflix for that crash course in humanity. He definitely owed Doctor Martin something for letting him use her ‘computer’. Maybe he could get her a bottle of wine? His brother seemed to be fond of alcohol, maybe he could ask him for an appropriate gift? He’d think about it more later. If he remembered.

Gabriel continued walking down the street, hands in his pockets as he contemplated the task his brother had asked him to aid with. Michael was technically responsible for this whole thing, but apparently humans wouldn’t react well to having a Lucifer-Look-A-Like investigating the whole thing. Telling them they were twins was apparently a ‘conflict of interest’ so Michael couldn’t pose as the FBI agent. 

Damn but Gabriel hated this. The suit was itchy, the humans were confusing, he didn’t understand half the stuff going on. He let out a long suffering sigh. He wanted the humans to pay, but this way the exact opposite of ‘up his alley’. This was like, across town from his alley. Why did he have an alley anyway? That didn’t even make sense. But Michael had asked for his help, and that was a miracle of its own kind! Michael the Demiurge, didn’t  _ do _ assistance. He didn’t ask for help, especially not from the notoriously flaky messenger of God. Honestly, why didn’t he just get Raguel to help him, the dude was all about Justice, being the literal  _ angel _ of the stuff.

Gabriel paused, tilting his head in thought.

According to that Netflix thing, cops and FBI agents had partners. So it’d be suspicious if he didn’t have one right? And Michael couldn’t do it for weird human law reasons. But the angel of Justice would be the perfect aid! And if he let Raguel handle the investigating stuff, then Gabriel would be free to interview witnesses! Like Lucifer, and the woman, and any other party goers that had been in Lux that night.

Plan formed, moderately at least, Gabriel ducked into an alley— was this his alley?— spread his wings, and took off. Flitting through several dimensions, he landed in front of the Gates, wings fluttering behind him in excitement.

“Raguel! Brother!”

The archangel of Justice looked up from polishing his sword, a gleaming masterpiece composed of cold, glittering steel. The blade was as pale as the moon, shimmering like it was made of captured moonlight, the hilt wrapped in argent gossamer thread, flickering with hidden fire. The blade sang as the angel put it back into its sheath, gleaming pale moonstones decorating the hilt. The angel himself had pale golden hair tied back into a low ponytail at the base of his neck. His eyes were a dark sapphire blue, as deep and cold as the ocean.

His voice was soft and quiet, unassuming as he stood to greet his brother. Gleaming pale gold feathers speckled with sprinkles of silver like stardust. The trailing edges of his wings were solid silver. They seemed to be sunlight and moonbeams spun into flesh.

“What brings you to me Gabe?”

The messenger rubbed the back of his head, offering a sheepish smile.

“Well, Mike asked me for a favor—”

Raguel held up a hand, raising an eyebrow.

_ “Mike _ asked  _ you _ for a favor? You?”

Gabriel huffed, his cheeks heating up in embarrassment. 

_ “Yes _ he did. Dad gave him a task—”

_ “ _ Is this about Samael?”

Gabriel rolled his eyes, his wings puffing up in irritation at being interrupted. When Gabriel spoke, people were supposed to  _ listen, dad dammit! _

_ “Yes Rags! _ Stop and  _ listen _ for a second okay?” Seeing his brother trying to hide a smirk, he fought the urge to scream. The literal messenger of god, and his siblings thought it endlessly amusing to interrupt him constantly. 

Jerks.

“Dad gave Michael and Azrael tasks to punish the humans responsible, but well, there’s some human laws getting in the way of Mike completing his task, so he recruited me and I’m out of my depth so I figured I’d recruit you?” Though he meant it more as a statement, it came out as a question.

Raguel stared at him with a frustratingly bland and neutral expression.

“Gabe, what are you on about?”

Gabriel sighed and rubbed a hand down his face.

“Look, Sam worked with the humans to bring evil to justice and see them punished. Mike is Sam’s pretty near identical twin, and apparently being blatantly related means the humans won’t accept him ‘working’ on the case. I can do it because I don’t  _ look _ like Sam.” He painstakingly explained. It didn’t make much sense to him, these human laws. Wouldn’t family work harder to find out what happened to their sibling? And why would they put so much stock into how the siblings  _ looked _ to draw family connections? Amenadiel had told him that many humans didn’t believe that he and Sam were brothers.

Humans. As if  _ looks _ determined who was family and who wasn’t.

Raguel stared at his brother, taking in his human suit and the way his tawny wings rustled behind him, amused to note that several of the coverts lining the wings still seemed to be puffed up. He thought over his brother's words, head tilted to the side in thought.

“You wish for me to join you on Earth, to ensure justice is served against the humans who injured Samael?”

Gabriel blinked, “Well, yes but it’s not—”

Raguel stepped beside him, putting a hand on his shoulder as he passed, his wings of pure ethereal beauty fanning out behind him.

“Why didn’t you just say so Gabriel?” Without waiting for a reply, the archangel took flight, descending from the Gates to dwell amongst the mortals. His rapid departure concealed the small smirk of amusement as he left his younger brother reeling.

Gabriel could only stare in shock before letting loose a very un-angelic scream of frustration as he snapped his wings out to follow after his brother.

_ “You didn’t even let me explain everything!” _

Selaphiel stood by, watched on amused as Raguel effortlessly teased their brother into a tizzy. Everyone knew Gabriel tended to be rather long winded, and he hated being interrupted. As one of the youngest archangels, his older brothers had enjoyed needling him into near constant states of irritation over the millennia. Only Raphael tended to chastise them for poking at him, rarely ever partaking in the antics of her siblings.

But what we’re brothers for after all? 

Shaking his head he turned back to the Gates, aiding some of his much younger siblings with sorting through the newest arrivals. 

*~*~*~*~*

The penthouse was filled with people in uniforms. That in and of itself wasn’t so unusual. What  _ was  _ unusual was the fact that none of these people were in costume or strippers. Every single one of them were uniformed police officers swarming the penthouse like flies on a carcass. Buzzing about and touching everything, checking for fingerprints and footprints, DNA and any other evidence they could find. Two federal agents stepped into the penthouse from the elevator, Agent Evangelo and his partner Agent Pravda. 

The two stepped into the thick of it, watching as the police searched through everything, Agent Pravda taking in a small breath, noticing the distinctive touches of his brother everywhere. The centerpiece piano lay untouched, an old glass of scotch resting on the lid. He shook himself and walked over to a dark haired woman kneeling by the blood and salt circle. Most of the uni officers had pale, drawn faces as they moved around. Lucifer was popular amongst his coworkers and many of them were struggling to keep a lid on their emotions, investigating the possible murder of one of their own wasn’t exactly what any of them had expected.

“Miss Ella Lopez correct?”

Ella looked up, offering a shaky smile as she knelt beside the circle, taking swabs of the blood and salt.

“Oh hi! What can I do for you?”

The second agent smiled and offered his hand. The forensic scientist took it and shook it vigorously.

“Agent Raguel Pravda, and my partner Agent Gabriel Evangelo. Could you tell us what you’ve found so far?” 

Ella blinked, staring up at the blonde man and her brow furrowing.

“Gabriel and Raguel? Like, the archangels?” She shook her head and laughed lightly, not noticing the startled expression on both of the men. “That’s ironic, the archangels of Justice and messenger of God investigating the disappearance of the Devil!” Ella let out another bubbly laugh, her spirits lightened by the irony. Man, Lucifer would find this so damn funny. Her smile turned wistful.

Raguel felt himself softening towards the human, his lips pulling up into a soft smile. “Knowledgeable about archangels huh? Do you believe in them?”

Ella nodded, standing up and brushing her hands off, her necklace flashing in the lights.

“Well I believe in the Big Guy, not sure about the rest. But doubting is how I have my faith ya know?” She smiled again brightly, shaking her head as her ponytail bounced. “Sorry, I don’t mean to get us off topic, if you want I’d love to talk more after hours.”

Raguel nodded sagely, elbowing Gabriel subtly to keep him from snickering. “I’d love that Miss Lopez.”

Ella’s bright gaze dimmed, the familiar name catching her off guard and hitting too close to home. She cleared her throat to try and hide the sudden onset of pain. “Ella, just Ella please. Anyway, I haven’t found much, the blood is being tested soon, to find a match. The salt circle is the weirdest thing, well I mean, weirder than the entire thing. But it looks like some weird occult thing, and I’ve got someone trying to translate the Latin, but I caught a few words from what I remember from Catholic school, like ‘God’ and ‘demon’ and ‘expel’ so my guess is some wacko tried an exorcism on… on our vic.” She swallowed thickly, looking down at the circle. 

Raguel nodded, looking over the scene and taking in the grilled cheese and wine glasses, still sitting on the coffee table. The glass still shattered everywhere.

“And what about over there? Looks like a date gone wrong. Any idea who could be involved?”

The room went quiet, every officer knowing the answer in their hearts and rebelling against the ugly truth.

Ella nodded, closing her eyes.

“Uhm, yea. Yea the grilled cheese is beginning to mold so it’s been here for a few days at least, so… so probably Friday night by the evaporation in the wine glasses and the mold growth. The blood is still weirdly fresh though, but maybe it’s because of the salt a-and room temperature, it seems almost fresh.”

Raguel put a hand on the woman’s shoulder, his gaze calm and understanding, imploring. His voice was soft and gentle as he spoke to her.

“Miss… Ella, I understand that you, that most of you,” he looked around the room sympathetically, “knew the victim. So I believe you may also know who did this. We want the same thing, we want Justice for Lucifer Morningstar. We need you to help us.”

Ella closed her eyes, trying not to cry as the weight of everything began to press down against her shoulders. She nodded, trying to regulate her breathing.

“Uhm… yea, yea I know it’s just hard you know?” Her dark brown eyes looked into his imploring him to understand her pain, her uncertainty. “Lucifer and Chloe were partners, like, really freakin’ awesome partners. He’s a bit weird with his method acting but he’s a  _ good _ guy! And… and Chloe… she had a date with him Friday night… he was so excited… he kept coming to me for advice, he wanted the night to be perfect.” Her voice broke and she looked away, taking her gloves off to rub at her eyes.

Raguel nodded sagely, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. “I know this must be hard for you Miss Ella, could you step aside with us and answer some questions for us? Then I think it’s best if you take the rest of this day off.”

Ella just nodded, letting the two agents guide her towards Lucifer’s room, away from the main crime scene. Agent Evangelo looked around anxiously, like he wanted to dip out of the room but Agent Pravda shot him a withering look and the man stopped fidgeting.

Raguel guided the young woman to sit on the bed, taking his seat next to her and keeping a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Can you tell us anything about Detective Decker? I understand she and Mr. Morningstar worked together for three years, is that correct?”

Ella nodded and wiped at her eyes, taking a deep breath. “Yea, yea they did. I didn’t start until a bit after Lucifer came around, so I wasn’t here at the beginning. But I mean, they were like the best pair ever! They always managed to find the truth out, and Lucifer was super into making sure the right guy got punished, and so was Chloe.”

Raguel nodded, “Alright, and has Detective Decker been acting strange lately? Any sudden changes in behavior or mood?”

Ella frowned, looking up at him. “Well, a couple of months ago she found out her ex-fiancé was the head of a criminal organization and tried to kill her, not to mention he was also our Boss. She seemed super shaken up after that, Lucifer killed the guy in self defense to protect her and she was jittery and scared when we caught up with backup. She disappeared to Europe for a month but like, considering how messed up the whole thing was, I’m surprised she only took a month!”

Raguel frowned, mentally going through the series of events and resolving to question his brothers about what happened. Lucifer had killed a human? Even at the height of his rebellion, Lucifer still obeyed their Father’s most important Law. Something else must have happened that he hadn’t been aware of. Glancing over at Gabriel, he could see the same confusion and worry in the brunette's face.

“Do you know where she went in Europe? If she spoke to anyone there? Someone who may have convinced her Mr. Morningstar was a threat that needed to be taken out?”

Ella began to shake her head but paused, sucking in a breath.

“Well, she mentioned she went to Italy, and visited the Vatican, she brought me back a rosary from there which was super thoughtful of her. She didn’t mention speaking to anyone. But… but why would she suddenly think Lucifer was, like, the  _ actual _ Devil? He’s just a method actor!”

Raguel shared a glance with Gabriel over the woman’s head, their faces drawn. “Thank you, Miss Ella. Please, call me if you need anything or have any other information to provide. I’m going to recommend you be taken off this case, along with Detective Espinoza. Not, because I think you’d do anything to obstruct the investigation,” he smiled kindly at her, his blue eyes warm with compassion, “I know this must be incredibly difficult for you. You should worry about yourself and take a few days off. I know this must be extremely unsettling.”

Ella gave him a watery smile, standing, taking his offered business card. “Thanks, Agent Pravda. I hope you guys find him soon, I can’t believe he’s… gone… not without finding his body. I have faith that the Big Guy is looking out for him.”

Raguel smiled, his eyes lighting up in genuine happiness. If only she knew.

“Thank you, Miss Ella. Your faith is… comforting. I doubt he’s gone as well.”

Gabriel sighed mentally, this FBI stuff was fun, maybe this is why Lucifer did his consulting thing. He hid a wince as that thought flew through his head, reminding him  _ why _ he was parading around as a human investigator. Not to mention this woman seemed genuinely upset about his brother's disappearance, and he felt guilty knowing he at least had the knowledge that he was alive and recovering. As far as this woman knew, his brother was most likely dead, her  _ friend _ was most likely dead and she still endeavored to find hope. To put her faith in a higher power that by some miracle her friend was alive. Maybe this is why his Father found humans so interesting, why his brother surrounded himself with them. 

Raguel watched the woman walk out, unable to take his eyes off the bright soul leaving the penthouse. He found himself softening to her in a way he rarely did for any outside his siblings. Gabriel took notice and punched him lightly in the arm.

“Hey, focus! I brought you here to do this human investigator thing.”

Raguel rolled his eyes, smacking his brother upside the head. 

“No, you brought me here because you thought I’d let you dip out to go enjoy our brothers liquor stores. We know it was the woman and a priest, obviously, but we need to gather the evidence the humans require. Do you know where this Chloe Decker lives?” Blue eyes flashed dangerously with cold fury, before fading back into a calm, neutral expression.

Gabriel sighed, unable to dispute his brother. He  _ may _ have wanted to let Raguel handle the human affairs. Maybe. Just a little.

“Yea, come on. This also means we have to take the  _ human _ transportation.”

Raguel smiled, going to Lucifer’s table and pulling out a set of keys.

“Yes, I’m aware.”

  
  


*~*~*~*~*

Chloe Decker lay in her bed unmoving. She stared sightless,y at the walls, her stomach twisting with hunger pains and her hair unkept, but she couldn’t bring herself to move. She had ignored the knocks on her door, ignored Dan’s worried texts and calls. He was taking care of Trixie for the time being, so at least her monkey didn’t have to see her mother falling apart. But Chloe just couldn’t muster up the energy to move. She went to the bathroom when her bladder grew too full but that was about it. She hadn’t eaten or bathed in the last two days since her unexpected visitor. The visitor with Lucifer’s face but lighting for eyes.

She let out a whimper and buried her face back into her pillows. The days had passed in a haze of confusion. She couldn’t be sure when she slept or woke, all she knew was the shadows shifted every time she opened her eyes. Sometimes they were across the room, others they had barely moved.

Focusing on how worried Trixie must be with not hearing from her for two days, Chloe dug deep into her heart and found her will, forcing herself out of bed and into the shower. She stripped slowly, turning the water on as hot as it could go and relaxing under the steaming torrent. She knew she had made a mistake, she shouldn’t have trusted the priest. She  _ knew  _ that. Even without… Michael… butting his head into her life. She just… it wasn’t so much as fear of Lucifer that had sent her spiraling. It had been fear of the Devil. She couldn’t reconcile the, the goofy immature Lucifer that she had worked with for three years, with the embodiment of all evil. She couldn’t see how one of those personas couldn’t be a lie and… she had thought there was enough ‘proof’, thousands of years of it, to point to the goofy one being the fake.

She should have known better. She  _ should have trusted him. _

But he should have told her the truth sooner! He… he should have showed her, or explained better for her to get her to understand!

_ Soulful dark eyes bore into hers, tears gathered in the corners if she wasn’t mistaken. _

_ ‘Detective, I  _ **_am_ ** _ the Devil…’ _

Chloe closed her eyes, resting her forehead against the tiles.

Okay… okay maybe he had tried, but he… could have shown her somehow—

_ Chloe was getting impatient, Lucifer sat before her looking confused and hurt, touching his face in disbelief. _

_ ‘Why isn’t it working, I don’t understand?’ _

He’d seemed so genuinely confused and she’d… she’d just rushed off on him, thinking he was playing her for a fool. He’d been trying to finally show her…

Fuck. Dammit okay… okay but… before then he could have…

Chloe closed her eyes, choking back another sob.

They both could have done a lot differently. He could have tried to tell her sooner, or showed her his wings. And she… she could have believed him, or followed the trail of obvious evidence he’d left in his wake. She could have talked to him instead of running away to Europe.

But she had been  _ scared  _ and Kinley had approached her while she’d been touring the Vatican, asking about how to access their library. He’d… he’d been kind and patient and understanding as he showed her which texts to look at, how to find her answers.

_ ‘How many priests did you consult with? How many Rabbi? How many Imam?’ _

She  _ had _ only spoken to Kinley. She hadn’t… fuck but how was she supposed to know?! She was a fucking atheist! She knew next to nothing about religion! She thought the Devil was just a Christian thing and that the Vatican would be the place to go!

_ You were supposed to know better than to trust the word of one man, you should have known to corroborate the story from different sources. You’re a fucking detective.  _ Her mind whispered traitorously in her head. She took a shuddering breath, trying to calm down her sobbing. She thought she  _ had! _ She spent hours looking through hundreds of books finding different depictions and stories about the damn Devil!  _ She had been corroborating the evidence! _

Shaking herself from her stupor, Chloe shut off the water, drying herself on in rapid jerky movements, barely able to control her body. She stumbled down the stairs to her kitchen to try scrounging up some food to ease the pangs in her stomach. She had just finished making herself a sandwich when there was a knock on her door.

Dread began to grow in her stomach as she hesitantly went to open it, staring up at two imposingly tall men, one with clear crystal blue eyes and pale golden hair, the other with painfully familiar burning emerald eyes and brown hair. Both men were dressed in suits and had FBI badges stuck to their hips. But Chloe knew  _ what _ they were. Her breath caught in her throat and her hands began to tremble.

The one with blue eyes stepped forward, and though it was thin and tight, his eyes didn’t hold the same burning rage as his partner. Nor the same contempt as the last blue eyed angel to visit her.

“Detective Chloe Decker I presume? My name is Raguel. I’d like to speak with you, if you have a moment.”

Gabriel hissed at his side, trying to take a step forward but being restrained by his older brother.

“Why are you pretending? She knows who we are, she’s met me before. You don’t have to act—”

Raguel turned a cold glare onto his brother, shutting him up.

“You asked for my aid, Gabe. If you want it, you will stay silent. Justice is not sought by hearing only one side of the story. We know Samael’s side, we must endeavor to know hers, then the priests.”

Chloe felt her heart break inside her chest all over again. This was a mercy and thoughtfulness she hadn’t deigned to give to her partner of three years.

Hearing  _ him out. _

Gabriel snarled and turned his face away, his fists clenched at his sides, the knuckles white.

“You wouldn’t say that if you  _ saw  _ what she did to him!”

Raguel turned back to Chloe, his eyes and face carefully neutral as he gave her a bland smile.

“I would, because it’s  _ what I do.  _ Miss Decker? May I sit?”

Chloe nodded mutely, allowing the two angels —  _ fucking angels — _ into her cozy apartment. Unlike Michael, the blonde one, Raguel, took a seat on her couch and crossed his legs, leaning back into the chair as Chloe took a seat opposite of him. Her hands were shaking and her palms sweaty as she rubbed them on her sweat pants. Gabriel stood off to the side, refusing to look at her and staring instead at the pictures Trixie had put up on the wall.

She cleared her throat and focused on Raguel, heart beating frantically in her chest.

“Y-you’re an archangel right? I-I saw your name when I was in the V-Vatican.”

Raguel nodded once, his eyes fixed on her, taking in her shaking appearance.

“Yes. Of Justice. Though Michael is often depicted as the patron of your profession. Gabriel and I are not here for Father's justice though.”

Chloe let out a breath, eyes widening as abject relief ripped through her, nearly making her faint. Her eyes caught on their badges and she felt her relief abruptly washed away with cold realization and dread.

“You’re… you’re posing as FBI…”

Raguel nodded tranquilly. “Yes, into the disappearance of a police consultant and a high profile private citizen. It is my understanding that this would be a conflict of interest for the local police to investigate… considering—”

“Considering that the main suspect is one of their own.” She interrupted softly, her tears welling up anew. “B-but why?! You and I both know that he’s not even  _ human—” _

Raguel shook his head, uncrossing his legs and leaning forward, his eyes still clear, still calm, still neutral.

“But  _ you _ are. You, who swore to uphold your cities laws, attempted to murder someone. You became who you used to hunt.”

Chloe shook her head wildly, sitting back in her chair as if she wished it could swallow her whole. 

“He’s not even  _ human!!”  _ Her voice shook with the force of her denial.

Gabriel turned his head towards her, sneering at her. “Would you rather face human justice or our Father’s wrath mortal?”

Raguel held up a hand, glaring at his brother, “Enough, Gabriel. Go take a walk. See if you can’t track down Azrael and see where she stands with the priest.”

Gabriel scowled but spread his wings and disappeared, the pictures on the wall rustling in the gust of wind his departure caused.

Raguel turned back to Chloe, sighing deeply.

“You are a human, Chloe Decker. And Father has decided that for now, you will face the judgement of the institution you once served. I am not here to deliver Divine justice. I am here to push the proceedings on for human justice. Whether my brother is or is not the Devil is non withstanding. You conspired with a priest to perform an exorcism, you slipped a substance into your partner's drink, of which you knew not the origins. You proceeded to watch as said partner was chained and tortured by the priest. In human laws, you would be looking at attempted murder in the first degree, and an accessory to the special circumstance of torture. You and I both know this all to be the truth.”

Chloe closed her eyes and her lip trembled, but she refused to cry. She had been crying enough over the last few weeks, since she’d first seen Lucifer’s face really. She was done. Her shoulders slumped and she curled in on herself.

“I… I was scared.”

Raguel looked at her, taking in her trembling and guilt ridden form, and nodded. He spoke to her calmly. Not gently, not callously, just calmly.

“Tell me what happened, from when you first entered Rome.”

Chloe glanced up at him, she couldn’t find comfort in his words, nor in his expressionless gaze. But she did find resolve. So, taking a deep breath, Chloe began to speak.

“I was trying to find out who I had to talk to, in order to gain access to the library…”

*~*~* **_The Past Few Days in Hell*_ ** ~*~*

In the outskirts of Hell, screams bounced off the towering pillars of obsidian stone. What little light there was seemed to be absorbed by the greedy masses, and howls and jeering laughter floated through the empty corridors. The heavy din and clanging of crashing swords echoed across the Hellscape. Demons roared and howled as those who did not submit fell beneath the gleaming brilliance of three angels. For years the battles had been raging through the miserly corridors. Three angels spearheading the writhing black waves of claws and fangs, while a contingent of thirty more angels took on those that flooded around the leaders. Like a black wave crashing upon the rocks, the hordes fell against the celestials. The damned were left to rot in their Hell Loops, and those who had earned special treatment found solace in the minuscule decrease to their torment, as their torturers turned their energy onto their foes.

Remiel flew high above her siblings, roaring with battle lust flickering in her eyes as she gored three demons on her spear, calling it back to her and continuing to slice into another wave of demons. Her grin was just as feral as the hordes, and after several Hell years of fighting off the invading forces, the demonic waves began to lessen. Celestial grace and stamina meant that the host was barely flagging. Maybe a few more years of constant warring and they’d begin to flag, but this was just a warm up for the heavenly host.

Some of the more powerful demons, those who had acted as Lords over different circles, began to step forward as their mindless underlings stepped back.

One demon in particular, a hulking figure of rotting skin and spilling intestines, before his glamor snapped into place to appear as a typical elderly gentleman in his late fifties, steps forward from the others. His eyes a deep, black chasm of violence. His smile is brittle and full of teeth.

“You’ve amused yourselves destroying the masses for quite long enough.”

Remiel lands with an earth shattering boom between Pyriel and Duma. The ground quakes beneath her feet, rocks and debris flying into the air around them. Her grip on her spear tightens and she grins back, clear enjoyment on her face.

“I’ve just begun to enjoy myself  _ demon.” _

A woman saunters through the crowd of higher ranking demons, with hair as black as night trailing down to the ground and skin as flawless as a porcelain doll. Yet it seems like oily smears trail behind her hair, and the pale perfection of her skin seems  _ wrong  _ somehow. Her feet were bare against the stones of Hell, her body covered in a floor length black dress that blended with the darkness around her. She was as beautiful as she was loathsome. 

“Enough, Ba’al. They’ve entertained you and the others long enough. Let’s hear what they have to say. The least we can do for the  _ riveting _ show the little  _ angel _ just put on for us.” Her words were like rotten fruit dipped in honey, slipping between the two parties like oil on water. “I’m  _ curious.” _

Pyriel tightened his grip on his flaming sword, lips twisting into a snarl, but Duma, ever silent, only put a hand on his counterpart's arm, shaking his head.

Remiel’s grin widened, contempt and hatred spewing forth from her lips.

“We owe you  _ nothing _ filth. We will guard the Gates and kill any wretch stupid enough to leave.”

The woman’s muddy brown eyes flashed with fury.

“We have only  _ one _ celestial to whom we bow and scrape to, and we’ve grown quite content without him here. You’ll  _ leave _ and let us do as we please.” Her smile widened and she leaned forward, her gaunt shoulders pale in the all consuming darkness. “If you resist, we’ll let you stay here in your very own chambers. We’ll even pull out our best toys to entertain you with.”

The demons behind her laughed, each pulling out Hell forged steel weapons of all shapes and sizes. Curved and jagged blades, whips with spiked barbs and uncounted lashes, forceps with jagged edges.

Remiel’s smile grew wider, hefting her spear into one hand pointing it towards the new, more challenging foes with a nearly insane glint of joy in her eyes.

“I will enjoy gutting you, Lilith.”

The mother of monsters offered a twisted smile in return before she screeched a command in the twisted tongue of Hell, and the courts of Infernals launched themselves into battle against the angels. Where the hordes had struck with claws and fangs, these higher demons struck with crafted weapons and skill. The battle transformed from howl's and snarling cacophony to an almost eerie silence, broken only by the crack of a whip or a blade piercing the air, or even the sound of flesh and blood stripped from the bone of an enemy. 

The battle raged on more fiercely than the previous ones had. Days passed into months as the upper echelons of Hell’s denizens fought with the small contingent of the heavenly host. Though modern humans had often depicted God’s firstborn children as toga loving artists and musicians, protectors and healers, angels were first and foremost warriors. They were  _ the  _ apex predator of  _ all _ creation. 

And it seemed that demons had forgotten that as well. Yet it had been a long time since the angels had left their home to truly fight their natural enemies, and so it was for months that neither side was able to destroy the other, locked in a tug of war for power.

On the eighth month of fighting, two figures landed between the charging battalions, a short sword piercing the air and a voice booming across the battlefield.

**_“STOP!”_ **

The first figure, the one holding the sword, looked upon the charging lines and scowled. Short black hair framed a pale face and she lowered her sword, the blade disappearing into another dimension as she threw the second figure to the ground, towards the demons. The figure, an elderly man, wet himself in terror and whimpered as he scrambled back towards his captor.

“N-no please!”

The demons watched him with greed and lust in their faces.

The angels watched him with disgust.

Azrael straightened her hoodie and met Lilith’s stare unflinchingly.

“You can have the living human for two Earth days, if you agree to let Remiel sit on the throne and our brothers guard the Gates.”

The human screamed in terror as one of the demons stepped forward, terror making his eyes nearly white.

“A live one?! I’ve never tortured a live one before!”

Incoherent with his abject terror, the human wept and blubbered for mercy.

A few demons let out lust filled moans at the sound.

Lilith walked up to the human and grabbed his chin, staring into her eyes as her ruby red lips curved into a rotten smile.

“Four earth days.”

“Three.” Azrael did not blink

“Deal. How long will  _ they _ be here for?” Her gaze flickered to the three angels standing in front of the host. Their armor was tinged with ash and blood, dents marring their breastplates.

Remiel was vibrating with battle lust. Eyeing the demons with thinly concealed anticipation. No doubt she wanted to resume their battle.

Azrael shrugged, her dark wings blending into the shadows of her brother's realm. The picture of indifference.

“Don’t know. I’ll be back to pick up your new plaything in three Earth days. Keep him  _ alive _ until then” She turned her back to the demons, and Lilith shoved the human to her waiting children, finding her own sick joy in the renewed screams as the old man was carted off to his new home for the next few centuries in Hell.

Time moves differently on this plane after all.

Lilith watched the celestials carefully before turning sharply on bare feet and sauntering back into the depths of hell on the heels of her abominable brood.

Once all the demons had gone, eager to play with their newest toy like starving dogs fighting over a steak bone, Remiel turned on her sister, prepared to scream at her for interrupting her battle, when another rustle of wings heralded the arrival of one very ticked off Messenger.

Azrael ignored a fuming Remiel, turning to face the newest arrival head on.

“Gabe, what’s up?”

Gabriel scowled, looking over the landscape of Hell with contempt.

“Raguel is speaking to the woman and wants to know when he can speak to your charge. What about you Rae-Rae? Where is your charge? Why are you  _ here? _ ”

Rae-Rae’s expression turned thunderous but she managed to control her rage by a thread.

“I just gave him to the demons to play with. Dad said no more than three Earth days, so I gave them the full amount to show him what he’ll look forward to.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow, his scowl fading away a bit.

“ _ Dad _ sanctioned that? It will be centuries by the time they’re done with him, won’t he die?”

Rae-Rae shook her head, shifting her weight onto one leg and crossing her arms.

“No, with time moving differently on this plane, but him still being a living soul, he won’t be able to die while in Hell. Not unless they accidentally kill him, which I’ll be able to sense and shove him back into his body. He’s still got a while before he dies.”

Gabriel nodded, figuring she of all people would know the most about death.

“Great, let me or Rags know when you bring him topside. I’ll swing by and arrest him to bring him to the precinct.”

Rae-Rae lifted a brow, noting absently that Remiel had stormed off along with the other angels to go to their newly assigned posts.

“Precinct? Are you and Rags pretending to be cops now?”

The messenger gave her a faint smile, chuckling.

“Better, FBI agents, apparently they’re of a higher authority.”

Rae-Rae snorts, shaking her head. “Let me guess, Agents Taggart and Rosewood?”

Gabriel just looks at her confused, green eyes shining.

“Uhm no? Am I supposed to know who they are?”

Rae-Rae groans and rubs at her face. She forgot how behind the times her older brothers tended to be.

“No no, it’s a show, on Netflix. Supernatural. These two brothers pose as FBI agents and… you know what? Never mind.”

Gabriel lights up. “Oh! I have watched Netflix! Doctor Martin allowed me to watch several shows so I would understand how to act!”

Rae-Rae snorts again, clutching her belly to hold in her laughter. 

“Dude, you are such a nerd Gabe. Anyway, I gotta go catch up on some work while the demons play. Smell ya later!”

She disappears in a flurry of dark feathers, leaving Gabriel standing there dumbfounded, but resolving to go back to Doctor Martin and insist on watching this ‘supernatural’ Rae-Rae mentioned.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Everyone! 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter, it was actually pretty time consuming to write. Normally an idea hits me and I just pump it out and call it done, but this one required several re-writes and fixes before I judged it good to post. This chapter is a bit more playing with the characters and using the oh so fantastic artistic license to develop my picture of Gabriel and Raguel. Possibly even some EllaxRaguel action in the future? We’ll see how it develops. Ella and Dan are definitely getting closer to finding out the truth though!
> 
> Let me know what you think or if you liked it! I’m playing around with some more new and exciting characters! My chapters keep getting longer and longer as more characters and ideas worm their way into my writing!
> 
> The bit at the end, I couldn’t resist. I love me my Winchester brothers, even if I’m horribly out of date with the current season.
> 
> ~Istuineth


	11. Devil Got Your Tongue?

Dan pulled up into the driveway just as the sun was beginning to set and light bled from the world as darkness covered the earth. When he got out of his car, staring up at Linda’s house, he took note of her car in the driveway and the lights on in the bottom level. He let out a quiet sigh of relief, thankful that she was home. He made his way to the door, feeling more at ease as he put his hand on the doorknob, picking up the murmur of voices inside. She was home and not alone, so hopefully that meant Amenadiel or Maze were with her. He visibly shuddered in relief as he opened the door, a small, strained smile on his face as he walked in, trying to pep himself up for delivering bad news to Lucifer’s therapist and his brother.

“Hey Linda, are Maze or Amenadiel around—”

He stopped, mouth hanging open as he stared around the room in shock.

Linda was here, sitting in one of her reading chairs by a lamp, a bowl of ice cream in hand. Maze was standing leaning against the door frame off to the side of the room away from the main group, playing with one of her knives, the expression on her face somewhere between contemplating murder and boredom, so she was happy. Amenadiel sat on a couch next to a caramel skinned beauty with haunting amber eyes that tracked his movements. 

And Lucifer. Fucking  _ Lucifer _ sat on the couch between Amenadiel and the new woman, a spoon stuck in his mouth and coffee and caramel ice cream in his bowl. His chest was bare except for an obscene amount of bandages. His dark brown eyes were wide and startled as he stared at Dan, lurking in the doorway.

Beside the fact the  _ fucking Lucifer _ was alive, sitting right in front of him eating a bowl of  _ fucking ice cream  _ while Dan and Ella battled their grief thinking he was  _ dead _ somewhere, were the pair of enormous wings crammed behind the three people on the couch. Some instinctual part of him  _ knew  _ they were supposed to be white, but they were obscured by lines of black stitching and wrapped in off white bandages in odd places. They curled protectively around the other two occupants and attached to the very  _ naked _ back of one Lucifer fucking Morningstar. Without the shirt and the way he was hunched forward gave Dan a clear view of the way  _ the fucking wings connected with his back _ .

_ “Holy shit!” _

Blood was pounding in his ears as his vision narrowed in on the wings, obviously damaged and somehow  _ wrong _ protruding from the assholes back. He saw Linda get out of her chair and move towards him as if in slow motion but Dan couldn’t take his eyes away from the  _ fucking wings _ so casually displayed in front of him. The roaring in his ears grew to a crescendo and his world began to fade to black. He heard Linda and Amenadiel calling his name, but they sounded so far away, their calls distorted like he was underwater. With one last, hysterical thought, Dan’s consciousness faded into oblivion.

_ ‘The Devil is real and steals my pudding…’ _

Amenadiel caught Dan before he could thud to the ground, letting out a frustrated sigh as he closed his eyes, picking up Dan with ease and carrying him bridal style over to another of the couches and laying him down on it. This… was not what he had expected to happen this evening.

Lucifer sat on the couch staring wide eyed at Dan, spoon still sticking out of his mouth. He mustered up a weak smirk as he looked to his older brother.

“Who knew Detective Douche had a flair for fainting. Perhaps I should call him Damsel Daniel from now on. Daniel the Damsel? Detective Damsel? Oh no that last one is horrid...”

Linda snorted before schooling her expression into one of gentle reproach. She cut her eyes to the cheeky Devil and gave him her most admonishing glare.

Lucifer grinned and took another bite of his ice cream, wings fluttering weakly behind him.

Linda gave a long suffering sigh, shaking her head. “Lucifer…”

Another bite, another cheeky grin, and the Devil settled back into his seat.

“Not to worry Doctor, I’ll hold off on resuming our banter until after he’s recovered from finding out the Devil has wings.”

Linda sighed as she went to grab a cold compress and a rag for the man lying on her couch. Maze was smirking as she looked over Dan, clearly amused by the whole thing.

Raphael rolled her eyes and went over to the unconscious human, putting her hand on his head to check to make sure he was alright. “I think he fainted more at finding out Divinity is real, Sam.”

Lucifer grimaced and took another, larger bite of his ice cream, glaring at his sister.

“I don’t go by that name anymore Raphi.”

The healer only gave him a fond, exasperated smile. “It’s what I know you as, little brother. Though I’ll try to call you by your chosen name.”

Lucifer huffed and proceeded to eat his ice cream in brooding silence, watching Dan carefully. No matter how hard he tried to pretend everything was normal, he could help but feel a sliver of doubt, of  _ fear _ , worm it’s way into his heart. Chloe finding out had sent her off to Europe and plotting to kill him. Linda had been catatonic for two weeks. Daniel, who had never been a fan of his, would no doubt lash out as Chloe had.

If the woman he  _ loved _ could not tolerate him, how would the man who had always been vocal about his dislike for Lucifer react?

Shoulders slumping in dejection, Lucifer curled up onto the couch, letting his wings wrap around him as he tried to go back to sleep. The sudden exhaustion flooded him as his doubts began to slam against the crumbling walls of his resolve.

Rebel of God, Brightest of Archangels, King of Hell, Samael the Lucifer, allowed himself to wallow in his fear of rejection. It was after all, the story of his life. Uriel, if he had been alive, would be able to confirm that Lucifer’s life was nothing but a pattern of rejection and loss.

He’d dared to question his Father, demanding Free Will for him and all his siblings so they could make their own choices. Demanding the same love and bounty given to His pet creations. In return he’d been cast from Heaven, cursed to suffer the agony of Falling, the burning of the Lake of Fire and Sulfur, endless eons spent in torment fighting to become King of his own Realm, fighting to keep his throne. Banished and rejected from his family and the only home he’d ever known. His  _ Father _ had tossed him away for doing what was in Lucifer’s very  _ nature. _

He had been cast out for  _ wanting. _

As often as he had been depicted as the ultimate tempter, more often than not it was humans that were able to tempt  _ him _ to try new things, explore new forms of pleasure. Lucifer could draw out the desire in others only if he understood the basic feeling himself. 

His siblings had never deigned to visit him, not once. And so he had grown to accept the painful reality that his siblings had rejected him as well. This only seemed to be proven by Amenadiel’s constant interference with his vacations to Earth. Tossing him back to Hell time after time. 

Now with Chloe, the first woman he had ever truly loved, betraying him and letting him be  _ tortured _ .

Lucifer was too exhausted and tired to deal with what would no doubt be another rejection heading his way.

Sighing, he sank deeper into the couch and into the darkness of sleep.

Amenadiel rubbed the bridge of his nose, taking a deep fortifying breath as he looked between the two couches, and the two sleeping occupants. He had an idea as to what had caused Lucifer to clam up again when they had been making progress earlier. 

He really wanted one of his fruity drinks right now…

With another sigh he resolved to sit and keep watch over the two men. When Dan woke he’d no doubt have questions burning his tongue, and Lucifer would need to be reassured and cajoled into a better mind set again. The sight of the normally vibrant Angel of Light so dejected made Amenadiel want to hunt Chloe down and rip into her for what she’d done. He forced those thoughts away. Gabriel, Raguel, and Michael were handling the humans right now, Amenadiel and Raphael would handle Lucifer. 

Still, one of those drinks would be useful right about now.

  
  


*~*~*~*~*

  
  


Raguel stared at the mortal woman in front of him, carefully thinking over her story. She had answered all of his questions, explained her meeting with Kinley in Rome, the fear and uncertainty that had filled her. The sudden paradigm shift and existential crisis had been what fueled her. Miracle or not, humans confronted with Divinity normally went mad for an unpredictable span of time. All things considered, her initial reaction to finding Lucifer with his devil face, crouched over the dead body of her ex-fiancé, hadn’t been that unreasonable.

Continuing to allow the fear to overrule her common sense and her  _ conscience  _ had been where she erred. But again, the crisis of faith and emotional vulnerability had been prayed upon most expertly by Kinley.

It was, unfortunately, a common method of many religions around the world, Raguel admitted to himself.

Priests and other religious leaders often ‘advised’ and ‘counseled’ those undergoing incredible amounts of emotional duress to guide them into one religion or another. Christianity was better than most religions at laying it on thick. Catholics even more so. The idea that after death, Chloe would be sent to Hell for loving the wrong person, wasn’t exactly a new idea to many faiths. 

Raguel closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. How many humans had stood on the precipice of judgement, torn between Heaven and Hell because they’d been taught that their love had been sinful and evil? Chloe, having loved the actual Devil, was the perfect target for a priest like Kinley who had decades of practice as a Catholic priest at laying guilt and fear of eternal damnation on others.

Releasing the breath, Raguel opened his eyes and met the watery gaze of the woman his brother loved, and who had, for a time, loved him in return. Bitterness crept into his heart at the ill-fate of his brother. Love, unfortunately, was not always enough to tip the scales, as Raguel knew all too well. 

Still, he offered the woman another smile, thanked her for her cooperation, and stood to leave.

Chloe reached out without thinking and gripped his arm. Her fingers trembled and fear grew in her scent, but she looked up at him with confusion and fear.

“That’s all? W-why aren’t you screaming at me? Why aren’t you  _ judging me?” _ Her voice broke, and Raguel added another thing to his mental notes on this woman.

This Miracle of his Father, the woman who had held his brother's heart, was more similar to his brother in her mores than she was apparently aware, if she was seeking judgement from him.

It was more likely she was seeking  _ punishment. _

He put his hand on top of hers and gently pried her fingers off, holding her hand for a brief moment as he met her gaze.

“You have committed a grave error. Several, in fact. I am not blind to your reasons, though I find them brittle and flimsy. Your actions, no matter the manipulations of others, were still and will remain, wholly your responsibility. You ask me how I can refrain from judging you?” He met her stare, and for the first time, allowed his pity to show through his calm facade. “It is because I  _ have _ Judged you. But I also pity you, Chloe Decker. You loved my brother, but allowed fear and uncertainty to taint it, you allowed others to twist the truth you knew, and blind you to the facts around you. I pity you, Chloe, because yours will be a Fall to rival my brothers’, and I fear once my brother realizes that, it will hurt him all the more.” He released her hand, letting his hands fall to his side.

Chloe stepped back as if struck, her eyes swimming with tears. Her lip trembled but she stubbornly pushed the tears away. She swiped at her eyes and took a deep breath.

“I-I don’t understand what you mean.”

Raguel shook his head and sighed softly.

“You won’t understand, because you still feel like your actions were justified, and that others are at fault for your choices. Until you learn to accept responsibility for your actions, you won’t be able to.” He turned from her, heading towards the door. “I do not envy you the grief you will feel, once you finally  _ do _ understand.” He gave her one last, long look before walking out her door, shutting it quietly behind him as he left. 

  
  


*~*~*~*~*

  
  


When Dan woke up, he didn’t really remember where he was. He looked around groggily, rubbing at his eyes as he sat up slowly. He was on a couch, but he didn’t remember laying down. And this wasn’t even his couch… he shook his head and reached up, rubbing at his temples.

He glanced over and did a double take, finding Amenadiel sitting in a reading chair beside him. The black man looked up, his face lighting up as he smiled at Dan.

“Hello Dan, are you feeling any better?”

Dan blinks at him, rubbing at his eyes again, not understanding.

“Amenadiel? What…” He turned his head from his friend and looked over to the opposite couch and suddenly his grogginess was chased away like a bucket of ice water being dumped over his head. Because there on the couch, was Lucifer, with bandages across his body and  _ giant fucking wings.  _ The man was sitting up now, wings splaying over the sides of the couch, and they look almost like a video game, if they shift in a certain way they seem to glitch through the couch. Lucifer was staring at him, his face a careful mask of boredom, but his eyes screamed uncertainty.

“I… please tell me I’m hallucinating.”

Lucifer grins, interrupting the no doubt carefully constructed answer Amenadiel had been working on while they took their nap.

“Nope!” He pops the ‘p’ in the infuriatingly annoying way of his, “Afraid I’m au naturale at the moment. Can’t put the blasted things away at the moment, doctors orders.”

Dan just stares at him, eyes wide. His mouth opens and closes as he just… stares at Lucifer, his gaze occasionally flickering back to his silent friend.

“You’re  _ actually  _ brothers?”

Lucifer snorts and his wings rustle behind him as he shifts on the couch. “Yes, as we told you from the beginning. As I’ve told  _ everyone _ the truth from the beginning.”

Amenadiel shot him an admonishing glare, sighing heavily.

“Luci, this can't be easy for him. Can you please behave?”

Lucifer snorts and glares at his brother.

“Behave? I  _ am _ behaving, as if he’s the one sitting on the couch carved up like a bloody turkey.”

Dan just blinks between the two of them, his mind still fried. His brain was working overtime trying to connect all the dots and make sense of everything he was seeing. The… the fact that Lucifer was  _ Lucifer _ and had  _ wings. _

“Wait, wait, wait. Shut up. Amenadiel is an actual  _ angel?!” _

The black man smiled sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders.

“Yes, Firstborn son of—”

“—He’s our big brother. Yes, our Father is God, capital G, creator of the universe, blah blah blah. Yes, I led a rebellion. No, I did not kill anybody in it. Yes, I’m the King of Hell, currently trying to enjoy retirement. No I do not have horns, nor do I like goats! No, I don’t want your soul. Yes, I do love a good Deal.  _ No, I _ don’t force anyone to do  _ anything _ . Yes I have wings, they’re rather annoying to deal with but occasionally useful. And yes, I was telling you the truth the  _ entire time _ and you just didn’t believe me. Does that cover everything Daniel?”

Dan just stared at him, mouth gaping open like a fish. But his heart lurched painfully and he turned suddenly wild, desperate eyes on Amenadiel. His breath got caught in his throat as he choked out, “Charlotte?”

Amenadiel smiled and reached over, squeezing his hand gently, his dark eyes filled with understanding and compassion.

“I flew her to the Silver City myself. She’s at peace in Heaven, Dan.”

The detective sucked in a ragged breath, a sound filled with grief and hope, something torn between a sob and laugh. He felt his friend pull him into a tight hug, his own arms wrapping around the broad shoulders and squeezing, finding a weight and grief lifted from his shoulders. He hadn’t realized just how heavily her death had been resting on him until he felt his burden eased.

Lucifer frowned, staring at Daniel incredulously, but smart enough to allow him a moment to collect himself. “If you stop living up to your name, Detective Douche, you’ll see her again.”

Dan’s gaze snapped back to the club owner, and struggling to look past the giant ass wings, he began to actually take in Lucifer’s appearance. He let out a low whistle, taking in the slumped posture, as if the man could barely hold himself upright on the couch. The bandages wrapped around his chest and the drawn, pallid complexion.

“Shit man, you look like you got hit by a bus.”

Lucifer snorted and sank further into the couch, fighting off yet another wave of fatigue that washed over him. It seemed all he was capable of was wallowing and sleeping. The energy it took to remain awake and responsive ebbed and flowed, like the tides on the beach.

“Yes, well, torture will do that to you. Even the Devil isn’t immune to a bit of poison.” Lucifer looked at him, his head tipped to the side, brows furrowed in confusion. “More importantly, why aren’t you screaming?”

Dan shook his head and met the dark brown eyes staring at him inquisitively, and the memory of the hatred he’d poured onto this man for Charlotte's death came crashing back into him. So many things made sense now. Lucifer had tried to tell them Pierce was dangerous. He had tried to stop him. Yet Lucifer never  _ really _ retaliated against the misplaced anger. He’d taken it in stride. Like… like he recognized that Dan had needed a target to throw himself against, and had allowed Dan to rail against him.

The Devil had a fucking conscience.

“Honestly? I don’t think it’s sunk in fully. Except for a few odd thoughts like the fact the Devil steals my fucking pudding. Or that he’s a man-slut. And an asshole. And… a surprisingly good friend.” Dan felt his cheeks warm up a bit and he swiftly scowled, glaring at Lucifer’s stunned expression. “And if you ever repeat that last one I’ll… I’ll get the gross off brand hazelnut pudding you hate.”

Now it was Lucifer’s turn to stare slack jawed at the man in front of him. He blinked once. Twice.

And then a full body laugh erupted out of him, he tossed his head back and laughed. There was a slightly unhinged quality to the sound, but also an odd note of joy or relief here and there.

“Oh Daniel, but you do know how to drive a hard bargain. Deal. No sharing uncomfortable feelings outside of this conversation, and you don’t buy disgusting atrocities those companies try to pass off as desert.”

Dan shook his head, nose wrinkling in disgust.

“You are such a prissy snob.”

Lucifer could only find it within himself to grin back, unrepentant and relieved. Of all people, he had never expected Detective Douche to be the accepting one.

“Well, I’ve had literal millennia to cultivate a discerning palette.”

Dan snorted and sat up fully on his couch, shifting to a more comfortable position. He tried not to think about the implication in the man’s words. Actually  _ millennia  _ to live through… Fuck, right, no contemplating that.

“And by that you mean picky.  _ Trixie _ is a less picky eater than you are.”

Lucifer huffed and propped his elbow up on the edge of his chair, resting his chin in the palm of his hand.

“Yes, well, the spawn clearly has better tastes than you.”

Dan shook his head and studied the man (Angel? Devil?) in front of him, looking over his bandaged chest and his heart began to pound again.

“What happened? Ella and I found your penthouse trashed… and the Feds have gotten involved in your disappearance. Right now, you’re on the wrong end of a homicide investigation man. They’re looking for you fucking  _ body. _ ”

Lucifer frowned and his eyes cut away as he let out a weary sigh. He couldn’t bring himself to meet the man’s stare. If Daniel had been to his penthouse, he had no doubt the detective had already started putting pieces together. He may have been a douche, but he was a decent detective. With another heavy sigh, Lucifer stood slowly, unable to hide the weakness of his limbs, leaning against the armrest of the couch.

“What would you like me to say, Daniel?” Weary brown eyes looked at him, a work weariness that Dan couldn’t even begin to fathom. 

Dan looked up at him, taking a deep, fortifying breath.

“The truth, Lucifer.”

Lucifer scoffed, shaking his head and beginning to make his way to the kitchen. His progress was slow but steady as he went to the cupboards and began to rifle through them, finally finding a decent bottle of tequila. Not his top choice, but this conversation wasn’t going to happen without alcohol. He steadfastly ignored Amenadiel’s warning look. Raphael had left with Linda earlier to go shopping. The former entranced with the idea of seeing how humanity had changed over the centuries since she’d last been here. Maze had quietly slipped out of the house after them, uncomfortable with being so close to yet another archangel, but unwilling to leave Linda alone with her. Lucifer would sneak his alcohol while his overbearing sister was out.

“The funny thing about the truth, Detective Douche, is that it’s subjective.”

Dan watched him with growing concern, though he tried to chalk it up to some other emotion. Lucifer enjoyed flaunting the truth, shoving it into other people’s faces. He didn’t do avoidance. Not unless it was really bothering him.

“You’re going to have to talk to the Agents that are investigating this Lucifer. They’ve already taken Ella off the case, and that Agent Evangelo is probably going to get me off the case too if he hasn’t already. You’re going to have to talk about this to someone. Whether it’s me or the Feds first is up to you.”

Lucifer snorted, his mind carefully considering the words that rolled around on his tongue the same way he savored his whiskey. Amenediel sat frozen on his seat, glancing between the two, unsure of what to do with himself. 

“This isn’t the first time I’ve discussed it, thank you. And I’d rather not make it the second.” The name Evangelo kept rolling around in his head, something about it brought Lucifer’s attention back up to high alert but the weariness in his body unfortunately extended to his mind. Raphael estimated he would need at least another week to shake off the effects of the poison fully and regain his usual faculties.

In the meantime his foggy brain could barely put two plus two together.

“Ask me a question, Daniel, I find I’m in no mood for witty banter or word games today.”

Dan swallowed and watched Lucifer rummage around in the cupboards until he found a shot glass to pour his drink into.

“Who did that to you?”

Lucifer poured the tequila absentmindedly, staring into the clear depths and wishing he could find the answers to his own unspoken queries. Like, ‘why didn’t she talk to me’ or ‘why did she go to such extremes’ or his personal favorite, ‘why had he fallen for it?’.

He took the shot in one go, slamming the glass back onto the counter and bracing against it like it could help him brace against the truth he so desperately wished was a lie.

“A priest.”

Dan swallowed thickly, looking at Amenadiel’s grave, drawn face. The pinch of his eyes that belied his stress and controlled anger.

“And… was the priest working alone?”

Lucifer closed his eyes, pouring himself another shot and drowning that one too.

“No. Chloe helped him.” Tears burned at the corner of his eyes but Lucifer viciously forced them back. Being soft wouldn’t help him. Though he hated the parts of himself that had made him the King of Hell, he used every ounce of his ruthless nature and carefully cultivated cruelty to slam his grief behind hell forged doors in his mind.

Fuck, but he hated doors…

Dan found breathing difficult as he took in the slumped but rigid posture of the man before him. He looked like a statue, with how still he was. He didn’t seem to be breathing with his back bent forward, almost as if he were trying to curl into a ball and yet stubbornly refusing to at the same time. Wings or no wings, this was the same guy that stole his pudding. The same guy that had everyone’s coffee preferences memorized and delighted in spoiling everyone. The same guy who protected Dan’s little girl. 

The same guy who had apparently been betrayed by the woman he loved.

_ Fuck _ he needed a drink.

Dan stood up, even though he felt like the ground had opened up beneath him to swallow him whole. He walked towards Lucifer’s side, noticing the way the feathers that were free of bandages and not broken ruffled in agitation even as Lucifer’s face was a mask of indifference. His knuckles were white, his forearms tense and trembling with barely controlled rage? Maybe grief? Dan didn’t know, but he’d bet everything it was a combination of a shit storm of emotions.

“Pour another shot.”

Lucifer looked at him askance, studying the grim set of Dan’s mouth, the tense line of his shoulders. A small, minuscule part of him relaxed ever so slightly to see Daniel so affected and yet so  _ unsurprised _ at his revelation.

So Lucifer poured. 

Neither spoke again as they stood by the counter, tossing back shots. They stood even as Lucifer’s legs threatened to buckle beneath him, not yet ready to support his weight yet. They stood even when Amenadiel brought over stools in the hopes they’d at least marginally relax.

They stood in silence as they took turns pouring from the bottle, though Dan continued pouring even when he stopped imbibing.

Amenadiel quietly watched over the two, unable to stop the flood of relief he felt that Daniel had been able to take this so… so calmly.

But another part of him mourned that Dan was only able to do so, because he’d started piecing it together after encountering the state of the penthouse. 

Amenadiel hadn’t been there to visit the scene. He couldn’t bring himself to see the evidence of what exactly his younger brother had endured, but Gabriel had told both Amenadiel and Raphael what he had seen, in graphic detail.

Despite what Lucifer thought to be an endlessly amusing design flaw in humanity, Amenadiel knew they would only be able to bask in denial for so long before the truth smacked them in the face.

And though it was entirely selfish, Amenadiel couldn’t help but to wish Dan and Chloe had flipped their reactions. He wished that he could turn back time and manipulate the two humans so that Chloe would be the one, calmly accepting his brother, and Dan was the one running off to Rome.

He lamented that his control of time didn’t extend to reversing it. If it had, perhaps his younger brother wouldn’t be trying so hard to conceal his shattered heart.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So this is my finals week, so wish me luck! I finished this over the weekend and I hope this will tide you over while I freak out taking my FINAL finals!


	12. Star of the Morning

Ella knelt on the floor of her bathroom, petting her chicken Margaret, though the chicken didn’t seem to be all that enthused with the attention, clucking loudly and pecking at the food in its bowl. She didn’t really mind her chickens obvious distaste as she sighed and let her hand drop, sinking to sit with her back propped up against the tiled wall. Her thoughts are a confusing jumble in her head as the evidence from the penthouse sits in the forefront of her mind. Feathers and blood and a circle of Latin written in salt. She’d managed to find translations for the Latin fairly quickly, though the specific words escaped her at the moment. But she did remember some that she’d been able to translate on her own. Years of Catholic school will beat some things into you after all. She’d recognized ‘God’ and ‘Evil’ throughout the ring of words. Even before the full translation had come back, it didn’t take a genius to figure out the general meaning. 

Latin Circle + Guy Who Thinks He’s the Devil + Crazy Priest =

In the name of God, get evil the heck out of here bro

Or something similar.

It was just a generic exorcism for banishing demons or something. It honestly hadn’t looked as real as some of the stuff they had in movies. How did this even happen? Like, okay, he does call himself Lucifer of all things, but like, he’s a method actor right?

_Right?_

The evidence she had back in her lab would suggest otherwise.

Ella closed her eyes and took a deep breath, stealing her resolve and focusing back onto Margaret and resumed her petting.

Feathers. Long, broken, pearly white feathers. Feathers that were waaaaaay to long to belong to any known species of bird. These were covert feathers, and they were larger than any coverts belonging to any known species, at least ones that were alive. The closest thing that could have existed to require feathers _this big_ would have been a bird that went extinct 25 million years ago. And _if_ any of those feathers still existed, and like, hadn’t turned to dust because _25_ **_million_ ** _years ago_ was a super long time, these wouldn’t… they wouldn’t _fit_ right. It just… didn’t match up. If they _were_ dinosaur feathers, how did they end up in the middle of a penthouse in LA in the _middle of a homicide investigation._

Dinosaur feathers were out. Like, way way _way_ out.

And they couldn’t be synthetic. Though the keratin they were made out of seemed like a really weird version of it, which in and of itself was freaky, they weren’t the typical waxy mess that synthetic feathers were made of. So, they were like… real… feathers. Just… made out of alien keratin molecules?

Ella let out a big breath, slowly through her mouth, her eyes blown wide as her hand stopped its petting once again.

“Yea Ella. Alien-Keratin. Angels are aliens. If it’s an actual angel feather. Which it could be because a dinosaur feather is out. Oh shit shit shit shit shit…”

Tipping her head against the wall and staring at the ceiling, Ella tried to control her racing heart. No _way._ No _freakin’ way_ was she about to discover angels were real. Faith was about doubting and if she had proof she didn’t need faith because… because….

_Because it’s all real._

Another deep breath in, and a slower one out. There was still the blood. It wasn’t… it wasn’t matching with anything known to earth either. It was red, and it had what _appeared_ to be iron in it. That much she was 100% on. Everything else about it? Nope. Not at all. 

It didn’t have any recognizable forms of DNA that she could find on earth. Blood that had to belong to a _human_ because it was pretty obviously _Lucifer’s_ considering it was his penthouse and _his attempted murder_ they were investigating.

Except humans had 23 pairs of chromosomes and this sample had 35 pairs. Which, ya know, starfish and foxes have but a human can’t be a fox or a starfish.

_Unless he’s not human_

That particular thought kept crossing her mind and she couldn’t figure out how to get it to go away. But… it wasn’t dinosaur feathers. It wasn’t starfish blood. It wasn’t fox blood. 

Ella looked back at Margaret and gulped, petting the chicken again as her mind spun into overdrive and her heartbeat quickened.

“Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains no matter how improbable, must be the truth. Oh shit girl, I think I just discovered that angels are real.”

A hysterical laugh bubbled from her lips and she shook her head, running her other hand through her hair as tears fell from her eyes. Margaret clucked loudly in the tub, her feathers ruffling as she moved around the tub anxiously, upset by the sound.

Ella continued to laugh even as more tears fell from her eyes and the reality of everything hit her.

They were investigating the murder of a freakin’ fallen angel. _The_ Fallen Angel. Which meant Lucifer told the truth the entire time. Like literally the _entire time_. He was exactly who he said he was. He was the Devil. The actual, biblical, fire and brimstone Devil.

_‘I think the Devil gets a bad rap. He was once an angel right? So he can’t be all that bad.’_

Her words floated back through her mind and her breath hitched. He wasn’t… he wasn’t all fire and brimstone and damnation. Sin, definitely. The guy was a walking sex machine. He definitely had no problem living up to _that_ standard but… evil?

The guy who joked around with her, and was uncomfortable with hugs. No, he wasn’t evil. He had a temper, and he didn’t have a problem with roughing up the bad guys but…

He wasn’t evil.

_The Devil gets a bad rap._

Something inside Ella shifted and settled into place, and she continued to cry quietly on her bathroom floor. Lucifer wasn’t evil, the Big Guy was real (and boy was she gonna talk to him A LOT later) but somebody had thought he was. Some deranged priest thought he knew better and now they couldn’t find his body and there was so _much_ blood.

With new understanding, the scene from the penthouse popped into her mind. But now, Lucifer, her _friend,_ hung there with _wings_ laying limply behind him and torn to shreds. And she could imagine how pretty they would be, considering the broken feathers still glowed faintly with some kind of bioluminescence, so if they weren’t broken… to have such a horrific image, a Fallen Angel _mutilated_ in his own home. Her friend probably chained up in _agony_ as his wings were ripped to shreds.

A new wave of grief, one born of empathy for the unimaginable pain her friend must be in, washed over her like a tidal wave and sent her spiraling back into her sobs.

With a beseeching, tearful gaze she looked up at the ceiling and choked out.

“Please Big Guy, please. I _know_ you’re up there, I’ve always known but I really _really_ know this time. Please, can you just… I don’t know, give me a sign that he’s okay? I… I know he’s the Devil, and he talks about how you two fought, which by the way, is a pretty big understatement at this point, but he’s… he’s your _son_ and he’s my _friend_ and he’s really a good guy with a huge heart and _please_ don’t let him be d-dead!” Her face crumpled as she closed her eyes, letting her tears fall freely as her sobs quieted. 

She sat there on the floor, letting her tears out before standing up, giving Margaret one last pat on the head, and made her way to her kitchenette. Her stomach rumbled just on time and she gave a little hiccup of a laugh, rubbing at her eyes and patting her tummy. She must have been in the bathroom for at least an hour or two...

“Yea yea, I know, I need to eat something…”

She moved to her fridge but caught her elbow on the counter, with a hiss her wallet and phone went crashing to the ground, things spilling out of the overstuffed pockets of her cute little polka dot wallet. With a sigh she bent down to start picking the cards and smoothie vouchers up, but her fingers hesitated on one. A crisp white card, with plain black lettering. One that she’d just gotten yesterday.

_Agent Raguel Pravda_

_Federal Bureau of Investigation_

Her smile split her face as she sat on the floor of her kitchen, and man she was gonna need to clean her floors because there was sooo much crud on her pants but all of it was overshadowed by the simple little unassuming card in her hands.

_‘Raguel and Gabriel? Like the archangels?’_

_A soft smile and twinkling eyes._

_’Knowledgeable about archangels huh?’_

“Ooooh man. Alright Big Guy, I see what you did there.”

Ella shot a dazzling smile at her ceiling before she picked up her phone and dialed the number printed on the card. Her heart fluttered like a caged bird against the cage of her ribs, nearly pounding hard enough to break free. She almost dropped the phone when somebody _answered_.

“Hello?”

“U-uh hey, Agent P-Pravda, it’s E-Ella, ya know, from the, uhm, LAPD? I uh, was wondering if you’d like to maybe go get coffee, and um, maybe, talk?”

She bit her lip and tried her best to contain her squeak. If Lucifer was the Devil and a fallen angel, then it would totally mean that Agent Pravda could actually be—

“Oh,” his voice sounded… happy. Like he was pleasantly surprised. Like he hadn’t expected her to actually ask him. Was she actually asking out an— “Yes, I’d be delighted. Would you like to meet at a cafe my… uhm, well in-law has recommended? I can text you the address.”

Ella smiled and nodded her head rapidly, then stopped when she realized he couldn’t see that.

“Oh, yes! That would be great? Can we like, uh, meet now? Well not like now now but like now as in however long it takes to drive?”

He sounded surprised but more than accepting on his end of the phone.

“Sure, that’s acceptable. And Miss Ella?”

She could practically hear the smile in his voice and it did… very strange things to her heart.

“Yes?” She rubbed her free hand on her pants, trying to get rid of the sweat on her palm.

“You can call me Raguel.”

She stood in her kitchen as the phone disconnected. Her heartbeat pounding in her ears as a blush rose to her cheeks.

Right. Pravda could actually be _the_ Raguel. The same way Lucifer could actually be _Lucifer._

She shot another look to the ceiling and bit her lip, trying to fight away her blush, ignoring the chime of her phone.

“Well, between you and me Big Guy, you’ve done some pretty awesome things, like breathing and living is cool. But if this is another one of your kids, you did something _really_ right.”

She shook her head, blush darkening as she went to change and wash her face off before her not-date. Because it wasn’t a date. Nope, totally a not-date coffee date. That wasn’t a date. Just getting answers. Not a date with a possible archangel. Nope. Not at all.

She sighed and looked in her mirror, dark eyes blown wide.

“Right. Answers. Totally not a date.”

She looked down at the address on her phone and couldn’t help another small smile.

She was going to get some answers. You know, on her not-date.

*~*~*~*~*

“So the Garden of Eden and the, the whole apple thing? That was real?”

“Well most of that story is a metaphor, there wasn’t a Tree of Knowledge, more of like a _devilishly_ handsome angel who was tall like a tree. And Eve wasn’t the only one to do any _eating_ that day, especially once we got Adam to join in.”

Dan leaned back, roaring with laughter. His face was red and his eyes filled with tears of mirth, stumbling into the counter. Lucifer just shook his head, unable to feel the same effects as Daniel but relishing the man’s obvious amusement.

“W-wait wait wait, you’re telling me you seduced Eve and _that’s_ how humanity experienced the first sin?!”

Lucifer snorted into his glass and shook his head, rolling his eyes as he tossed another shot back.

“Believe it or not Daniel, _I_ didn’t do the seducing that time around. Eve was, quite literally, the _first_ in a lot of things.”

Dan gaped at him, his eyes bleary as he stared incredulously at the self proclaimed sex god.

 _“Eve_ seduced _you?!”_

Another eye roll was his answer.

“Well it would be incredibly difficult to have sex with someone when that particular desire had never been felt before.”

Dan frowned, staring between Amenadiel and Lucifer, struggling to concentrate.

“But, aren’t there like, female angels too? Or are you guys actually… we’ll all _guys?”_

Lucifer looked down at him in disgust, shuddering as Amenadiel gagged.

“Yes, there are female angels but we’re all bloody _siblings_ you idiot! You think I’d shag one of my sisters?!” Lucifer gagged and took another shot, unable to suppress another full body shiver of revulsion. “I assure you, we differ on our moral views from humans but THAT particular inclination towards incest is ENTIRELY the byproduct of faulty wiring. Father must have been distracted with Mum when he was doing that bit of engineering, let me tell you. Shagging my bloody _sister!”_

Dan began snorting with laughter again, seeing the faces of the two revolted angels was too much.

“Why is it the Apple then? Shouldn’t it be a Cherry?”

Lucifer rolled his eyes again and shook his head. He gave a long suffering sigh as he glanced at the empty remains of tequila. The bottle had gone quickly once Dan began asking the typical question Lucifer expected from humans. He got up to grab another bottle from the cupboards, no doubt Linda and Raphi would have his head for it later but oh well. Carpe diem and all that.

“‘Popping the cherry’ as you call it is a chauvinist idealism that came about centuries ago during that dreadful period of time where humans were intent on spouting holiness while indulging themselves to the excess. That whole idea about women without a hymen being impure and sinners was simply so men could feel powerful! Complete rubbish and brutish behavior is all that was.”

Lucifer muttered to himself as he set the empty bottle on the sink, ignoring the smile and twinkle on Dan’s face or the amused one on Amenadiel’s. 

“What?” He snapped at them, feeling quite incensed at the turn of topic.

Dan began to laugh again, clutching his middle.

“The Devil’s a fucking feminist!”

Lucifer gaped, looking properly affronted.

“There is nothing wrong with stating the _facts_ Daniel! Nor with not being a prick! Is respect for the opposite sex _really_ such a foreign idea here?”

Amenadiel sighed and patted his brother's shoulder.

“No Luci, I’m sure that’s not what he means, it’s probably just the alcohol talking.”

Really. Could this still be chalked up to a ‘good’ reaction if Dan was losing his mind over Lucifer telling him the truth?

“W-wait wait wait, next one. Sodom and Gomorrah? Was that place really destroyed because they threatened two angels and because of some gay guys?”

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “That, unfortunately, was after my time. You’ll have to ask Gabriel, he was the one who went nuclear on the place. But I will tell you there are gay men in Hell, just not for being gay. That whole bible bit was mistranslated from man shall not lie with _boys_ . As in _pedophilia_. Those bastards do end up down under glad to say.”

Amenadiel leaned forward, a small smile on his lips, eager to contribute. “That bit with Sodom and Gomorrah as more about the fact the humans had gotten a bit… well Father was still interfering with humanity at the time, and he was a little irritated that they blatantly denounced him then had the gall to try and rape two angels. Of course Gabriel was there and would have been able to defend himself, not to mention Jathniel is no joke, but Father doesn’t permit us to kill humans. He was enraged enough that the humans thought to hurt our siblings that he let Gabe go a bit… well...” Amenadiel gave a small shrug, like it was no big deal. Dan spluttered for a bit, staring at him in disbelief.

“You’re saying two angels losing control is enough to destroy a city like that?”

Amenadiel shrugged, as though it were no big deal. “Well we aren’t called the warriors of God for no reason. Humans over time have depicted us as peaceful harpist, but we are all warriors. Though admittedly, some more than others. And it wasn’t as it was depicted in the Bible, there was no fire raining down with sulfur and all that.”

Dan looked at him, mouth hanging open as his mind worked before shaking it and turning back to Lucifer, who stood there looking vaguely _amused_ at the whole thing.

“Okay, and what about me? Am I going to Hell? For being friends with you?”

Lucifer scowled, staring at his glass before looking at Dan scathingly.

“You humans decide where you go. Free will even in death and all that. If you feel guilty enough, then yes. So buck up and stop feeling guilty and live your life well. Believe it or not I _don’t_ want more souls in Hell, especially not ones who aren’t even that horrid. You’re a douche, but not a douche deserving eternal damnation.”

Dan looked at him, swallowing thickly.

“So Charlotte… she was in Hell but came back? How?”

Lucifer grimaced, putting his head in his hands as very unpleasant memories came back. Amenadiel cast his gaze away, feeling the all too familiar guilt well within him.

“Yes, well, turns out the Charlotte you knew the first time around was actually my Mum, wearing Charlotte like a suit. I sent Mum to her own universe when I refused to start a war in Heaven, and either Mum or Dad were feeling benevolent and let Charlotte back into her body once Mum had gone.”

Throughout his little speech, the color had slowly drained from Dan’s face.

“Your _mom?!”_

Lucifer hummed.

“Oh yes, Divine Goddess of Creation is normally how she prefers to be addressed.”

_“I SLEPT WITH A GODDESS?! GOD HAS A WIFE?!”_

Lucifer frowned at the hyperventilating douche next to him while Amenadiel only sighed deeply.

“Well she’s his ex-wife, that happened about a thousand years after I was tossed out. Daddy Dearest likes cleaning house in one go apparently. And yes. You slept with _my mum_. Honestly, do you not remember me tackling you through that wall with the Chinese gangsters?”

Dan’s face was quickly regaining color. Though now he looked a bit green…

“Oh _fuck!”_

Lucifer rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, studying Daniel inquisitively.

“Yes, we’ve established that.”

Dan just stared at his hands, his face blank before he grabbed the newest bottle from Lucifer and took a heavy swig.

Lucifer tipped his head back and laughed, completely amused.

“You better share. I’ve had to deal with images of you shagging my _mum!”_

Wordlessly, Dan passed the bottle back and Lucifer took his turn drinking heavily. It really was disturbing, thinking of his parents that way. Though it did give him some ideas for if he ever popped back down to Hell… maybe Hitler would enjoy seeing _his_ mum shagged? Oh that would be something… definitely an idea to remember.

“Any more questions, Daniel? Or am I free to go?” He couldn’t help but to smirk at the dazed look in the man’s eyes. Honestly, he finds out Lucifer is the actual Devil and it’s the fact he slept with the Goddess of Creation that trips him up.

Okay, maybe he could cut Daniel _some_ slack. His mum was… well, she was a fair bit to handle in the best of circumstances.

Dan shook himself out of his thoughts, startled at Lucifer’s voice.

“Honestly, I don’t think I want to know anything else. I’m suddenly starting to see how fucked up this is.”

Amenadiel smiled warmly at him, taking the bottle and putting it back in the cupboards much to Lucifer’s consternation. He clapped Dan on the shoulder, beaming at him.

“You’re handling it very well Dan, humans aren’t meant to fully comprehend Divinity so you’re doing just fine, better than expected actually.”

Dan couldn’t help but to offer a hazy smile, his vision swimming a bit as the alcohol worked its way through his system.

“Hey, is there a place I can lie down? I wanna… I wanna try to sleep a bit. A nap sounds really good…” his words were slightly slurred and both Amenadiel and Lucifer looked at him in fond amusement.

Amenadiel kept one hand on his shoulder, guiding him back to the couch and grabbing a pillow off the floor, setting it down for Dan and helping him lie back, before he went to grab a blanket from one of Linda’s linen closets. Soon enough Dan was tucked in and asleep, under the watch of two angels.

Lucifer looked him over and snorted to himself, leaning against the counter as his fatigue hit him and he put his weight against it. Things had just become… too much. Though drinking with Daniel had done something to alleviate a weight from his shoulders, the weight on his heart still weighed him down. He so desperately wanted to be angry, he wanted to feel the pure molten fire of his rage consume him. He wanted to feel the liquid heat as it seared through his pain and grief. His fists clenched tightly to his sides as he struggled to unlock the rage he _knew_ he felt. To reach that part of him that he had relied on for millennia in Hell.

But he could not reach his rage through his grief.

Sagging backwards, Lucifer ran a hand through his hair, refusing to meet Amenadiel’s eyes. He wanted to crawl back to sleep on the couch, but the loathing of his helplessness threatened to consume him, and he knew if he laid down again, he would drown.

So he stepped outside the door, wandering into Linda’s backyard and basking in the heat of the sun on his skin. It warmed him, when all he could feel inside was ice.

He stood in the warmth of the sun, and his wings swayed in the breeze as he stood there. He heard, distantly, the sound of Raphael's voice, the soft alto tones like ringing bells as she lectured Amenadiel, having no doubt caught the scent of fresh alcohol. It brought a small amused smile to his lips. A flicker of warmth in his heart before it guttered out with an icy breeze.

He was just so _tired._

He could hear more raised voices, picking out Gabriel’s loud tenor, and the softer quieter kneel of Raguels baritone. _That_ was surprising. Rags very rarely left the Silver City, he preferred being alone or seeking the company of the undecided souls, finding the tipping point to either let them ascend or send them to Hell. Azrael had hinted once, long ago, that Rags more often than not nudged them towards the Gates. The soft bastard. Another flicker of warmth in his chest, another gust of ice, and Lucifer could not find it in himself to feel anything that so many of his siblings had come down to Earth for him. _For_ him, not to send him back. In any other circumstances he may have wept for joy. He may have raged against them for being absent for so long. He would have felt something.

But all he could feel was the ice within his soul.

_‘You aren’t the Devil. Not to me.’_

Chloe's sweet voice whispered in his ear with the gentle sighing of the wind, and he could not bring himself to weep as the ice grew within his veins.

There was the sliding of the door behind him, and Lucifer felt the visitor sidle up beside him more than he heard it. Lucifer didn’t react as their shoulder brushed his. He didn’t flinch as their fingers brushed against his. He only closed his eyes when he felt the tentative brush of another mind against his own. An achingly familiar and alien sensation he had tried not to remember, had stubbornly refused to forget.

 _‘It’s alright brother, I am here. I am_ **_here_ ** _Sammy’_

Deceptively soft fingers reached up and brushed his cheek, and Lucifer leaned into the touch like a starving man as his chest heaved in a ragged breath. He opened his eyes, not daring to hope, wishing this dream would never end because he could not _hope this was not a dream._

Eyes the color of the earth met eyes the color of the sky.

Another ragged breath was drawn in as Michael held his hand to his twin's cheek, staring into his brothers eyes as his own filled with tears. The emptiness that had been inside both of them, since Lucifer’s Fall was filled to the brim. Michael closed his eyes, and his brother mirrored him, as they leaned into each other, foreheads resting together, as their souls, the very essence of who they were, reached out to the other for the first time in a very, _very_ long time.

Michael was the cold to dampen Lucifer’s ire when it grew too hot, just as Lucifer’s fire warmed Michael’s when he grew too frigid. They balanced each other in a way few would understand. In a way few _could_ understand. They were the first Twin’s, closer than any others, rivals as well as partners. Michael was the cold vacuum of space warring with and soothing the heat of the stars.

And so Michael did what came naturally to him, in his inexplicable bond with his twin. His soul melded with his brother once more, to where they could no longer tell where one ended or the other began. Lost to each other in their minds as they communicated without words. Only feeling was left to them as they reconnected. The ice within Lucifer could not be abided, so Michael withdrew it into himself and the flames of Lucifer’s heart kindled once more, roaring to life with a vengeance. Michael stoked the flames there, coaxing them to life and withdrawing more of the ice into himself as the flames grew into a familiar raging inferno, and heat like lava raced through Lucifer’s limbs, scorching in their intensity.

The twins leaned into each other, unaware when their arms tangled together, or when their wings had come into the picture. Golden feathers twined with white as they both gleamed in the light of the Sun. Soaking in the light, and soaking in the presence of his Twin once more, Lucifer’s wings shuddered and flesh that was taking too long to heal, began to knit back together. Bandages fell and gave way as new feathers grew rapidly. Tendons and sinew reattaching and strengthening as Michael’s wings covered his. They didn’t notice when they began to glow softly, a gentle light emitting from their skin as fatigue and numbness were leached away. Pallid skin steadily shifted back to a more healthy shade. Strength and vigor returned to weary limbs.

The Twin’s pulled back from one another, but didn’t let go. Without a word Michael’s wings spread wide, over fifteen feet of shimmering golden feathers gleaming in the sun. Lucifer smiled, a genuine, joy filled smile for the first time in days as his own wings spread, healed and gloriously bright once more. The white feathers sparkling brightly. 

“Fly with me?”

Michael’s voice was soft, but not hesitant. He _knew_ his brother, his twin. He had no need for hesitation with him.

Lucifer’s answering grin was blinding.

“Always.”

They took off with a single beat of their wings, forgetting their siblings, forgetting the humans, and forgetting the mess they left behind on Earth.

Right now, there was only the joy in being reunited, the giddy excitement of being whole in a way that felt foreign and familiar at the same time.

They flew high above the Earth, flying farther still above the clouds and breaking the stratosphere. They continued their journey upwards until Earth was millions of miles below and they weaved their way between the stars and space they had created so long ago. They laughed as they tumbled through clouds of stardust and nebulas. Lucifer dove through the heart of a star, his soul singing in a way he had forgotten it could. The songs of his stars sang back, rejoicing and shining all the brighter as their creator returned. They twinkled and burned all the brighter, as the brightest of them all reunited with his Twin.

The Star of the Morning outshone them all.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what this means? I FINISHED MY EXAMS! So this is as much to celebrate for me, as it is a way to soak in the fact that college is DONE.
> 
> I hope you guys like this one, and I hope it doesn’t come across as rushed. I felt like we deserved some good feels this time around. 
> 
> Also, I do some research before I write when I have topics I’m unfamiliar with, like in this case the make up of bird wings or accurate comparisons. I actually found some interesting articles on a dinosaur recently discovered that was a bird with a 24 foot wingspan, and weighed about 70kilograms. A human on average weighs between 70-90 kilograms. So yea, actually Big Bird once existed. I thought that was pretty cool :)
> 
> Covert feathers are the soft downy feathers that line the shoulder blades of a bird (or angel) where the wing connects to the body. They tend to smaller and softer to try and prevent friction burns from what I understand.
> 
> Hit me up in the comments section and let me know what you guys think of this chapter!


	13. My Love Will Never Die...

Millions of miles away from the Earth, on an asteroid belt circling a white dwarf star was lazily orbiting the star, caught by the star's gravity. In perhaps a few million years the asteroids would be absorbed into the white dwarf, and in perhaps a billion years the star would reach the end of its life and become a black hole. But, for now, the asteroids circled the star, and the white dwarf shone brilliantly into the depths of space.

Michael and Lucifer lounged around on one of these asteroids, observing the star and relaxing next to each other. Their feet dangled off the edge of the would be meteor, their wings splayed out behind them, white and gold feathers meshing together as they sat in silence for an indefinite amount of time, simply basking in each other’s presence. They enjoyed the frigidity of space, warring with the heat of the star. 

Lucifer was the one to break the silence, though he did so reluctantly.

“Why did you never come to visit me?”

Try as he might, Lucifer could not mask the hurt and confusion that lied behind his words, though he desperately wanted to conceal that from his Twin. He didn’t  _ want _ to ruin their reunion.

All the same, Michael heard it and closed his eyes, focusing on the heat of his brother beside him, rather than the scorching star before them. Involuntarily his mind flashbacked to the last moment they had seen each other, all those years ago at the Gates of Heaven, with Lucifer kneeling before him. He could still hear the sound of his brother's bones breaking beneath his hands as he snapped his wings. He could still hear the muffled scream that caught itself in his Twin’s throat. 

Michael could still see the pain and betrayal in Lucifer’s eyes as his broken wings were pound, his primary feathers clipped, and his body cast over the edge of Heaven, down to his new kingdom. Samael’s Fall into Hell…

Michael took a shuddering breath and opened his eyes, turning his gaze to his Twin’s.

“Because I was ashamed.”

Lucifer sucked in a harsh breath and turned his gaze away, swallowing thickly.

His jaw clicked with the force of snapping it shut, clenching his teeth tightly together. He remembered his Fall in excruciating detail, just as Michael did. He remembered the tremor that Michael tried to conceal as the Prince of Heaven broke his wings. He remembered his Twin’s eyes swimming with tears, though he doubted the rest of their siblings were able to tell, as he wrapped the chain around the broken wings. The pain of the severed tendons and grinding bones had nearly made his cry out in agony all over again. For centuries after his Fall, he had waited. 

Once Mazikeen had drawn him from the Lake of Fire, he had taken centuries to heal, and in all that time he waited, hoping against hope that one of his siblings would visit him in his newfound prison. He had battled hoards of demons in those early days, fighting to recover and fighting not to become one of their toys. Few back then had sided with him. Mazikeen though, had been the first and most constant then, and all the years following. He held out hope during each of his brutal struggles against the hoards, that one, at least one of his siblings would aid him.

When two thousand years went by in silence, Lucifer had raged against his father wearing the scars and burns from his Fall, and swore he would not seek out his siblings either. Mottled red flesh with jagged furrows of black, burnt skin had become his every day appearance for an untold amount of time after that. The demons were put into their place ruthlessly, and Lucifer had ascended to his throne to assume his regency.

Though he scorned his siblings vocally, and rather viciously as well, a small corner of his heart that remembered the comfort of the cold against his blazing heart, held onto hope. 

And now here they sat…

“I’m… glad you’re here now, Mi. I don’t know if I would have welcomed you before, had you come.”

Lucifer looked out over the sea of stars, his soul thrumming with the power resonating inside him at their proximity. It’s something he had never dared to dream of filling again. It reminded him of happier times, before his Fall. Before humanity. Before he’d ever felt anything other than joy and contentment and love within his Father's creation.

It reminded him of when he was Samael.

Michael nodded silently, slipping back into their quiet companionship and taking in the sight of the twinkling stars around them.

“When the pain became too much, I would fly out here and dive through the stars.”

_ It reminded me of you, _ went unsaid between them but Lucifer heard it all the same. It was in the tendril of cold that reached towards him slowly. He wrapped his scorching heat around it and drew it into himself as he let some of his power be drawn into his Twin.

“There’s a corner of Hell, where most of the old Viking souls dwell, that’s cold enough to freeze blood. Human souls shape their own torment after all, and I would go there myself sometimes.”  _ It was never enough, for either of us _ , whispered between them silently, and their wings swayed behind them, drawing closer, entwining more as their primary feathers were mixed.

Lucifer turned his head to study his brother, his dark gaze softening.

“I suppose you want to hear what happened to me?”

Michael’s gaze hardened, his blue eyes crackling with frost and lighting.

“Not particularly actually. Unless you need to speak about it. Father gave us a rundown and I… I spoke to her. She mistook me for you.” His teeth were grinding and his fists clenched, barely able to stomach the memory of the pathetic woman and her excuses. “Father tasked me with ensuring she understands and accepts what she’s done wrong.”

Despite his kindled rage, Lucifer’s heart still gave an uncomfortable lurch at the thought of Chloe in pain. He studied his brother’s tense frame, lips pursing into a tight line.

“I don’t want you to hurt her, Mi. I don’t  _ want _ any of our siblings to lash out at her!”

Michael turned icy blue eyes on him, flashing with enough frost to burn anyone else.

_ “How can you say that?! _ She betrayed you! She tried to have you  _ killed!” _

Lucifer grit his teeth, his dark eyes lighting with fire as his devil face emerged, red burnt skin glaring angrily at his Twin.

“Because  _ this _ is what frightened her! This disgusting side of me that is meant to punish!”

But Michael didn’t flinch, reaching out and touching his brother's cheek, not allowing him to flinch and pull back from the touch.

“This face is  _ not who you are. _ It is what you  _ do. _ The same way my sword does not define me.  _ She  _ should have known that.”

Lucifer stared at his brother, hellfire dancing in his eyes. Gradually, the red faded and pale skin replaced it. Though the fire still danced in his gaze. Unable to hold his brothers gaze but unable to look away, Lucifer took an unsteady breath and let it out slowly.

Below them a galaxy spiraled on, beautiful ribbons of red and green and purple twining together, nebulas ad clouds of stardust swirling beneath them.

“Chloe… she’s the first woman I’ve ever loved Mi.” He let out a dry, humorless chuckle and finally looked away as the fire faded from his eyes. “Eve was… Eve was the first, and special, but she wasn’t the same. Not the way Chloe is…  _ was. _ ” He ran his hands over his face. With a roar he snatched a rock from its resting place beside him, standing in a flurry of feathers and chucking it off the asteroid belt, sending it hurtling it into space. He screamed in frustration and bent down to pick up another one, chucking it after the first, watching in satisfaction as they collided with the surface of his star and were consumed. 

Michael watched him carefully, but did not make a move to stand as Lucifer began to pace on the fairly narrow asteroid. He stayed silent as Lucifer continued to rant.

“I know, I  _ know _ that my Devil face isn’t something to flaunt around humans, despite what Amenadiel and the others may think I do! I  _ never _ want to show it to people who are innocent Mi! Never! It’s for punishment and I bloody well know that! I showed it to Linda and it took her two weeks to recover but she  _ did! _ Chloe runs off for a  _ month _ and then  _ lies to me _ about being alright! And I bought it! I listened to her when she said she was fine!” Lucifer cut himself off, his jaw working as he tried to control his rage.

Michael struck out lightning fast, grabbing Lucifer's hand on another one of his passes.

“Don’t.” He looked at his brother imploringly, gaze flickering off to the side, towards the sea of stars and darkness. “Don’t hold back.”

Lucifer looked at him, studying his face before turning and grabbing another rock, spinning on his heel and hurtling it into space. Red flames flickered to life on his fingers and the stone caught fire as it rocketed off. Another scream of rage accompanied it.

“She sat there, and pretended to care about me! She sat there and poisoned me on a date she  _ manipulated me into! _ Just like Father manipulated my entire BLOODY LIFE!”

He gripped the edge of the asteroid, ripping off a good two foot chunk and lighting it on fire. The asteroid shuddered beneath them and its course altered slightly at the force. This time blue and white flames danced across the rock’s surface as he hurtled it away from them, his chest heaving.

_ “I LOVED HER AND SHE LIED TO ME!” _

With one last final scream, Lucifer sank back to the ground, his head cradled in his hands as he stared blankly at his shoes, dangling off the end. His fingers twisted into his curly hair, nearly ripping it from the roots.

“I… I  _ still _ love her Mi… even though she hurt me…”

A muscle in Michael’s jaw twitched, taking in the sight of his brother. He had never before seen Lucifer so… defeated.

It was anathema to everything that he knew of his Twin.

“What she did to you, was  _ wrong. _ ”

Lucifer scoffed and looked away, bringing one of his legs up to rest his cheek on his knee. His head turned away from his Twin.

“She tried to put the Devil where he belongs. It’s not like Amenadiel hasn’t done it.”

Michael let out a frustrated sigh, flopping back onto the asteroid running one of his hands over his face while the other reached for his twin, grabbing Lucifer’s hand and twisting their fingers together.

“You’re blinded by your love and anger, Sammy. If this was one of your cases, and this was two humans, well three, but if this was a crime between humans, would you feel the same.”

Lucifer grit his teeth but did not pull his hand away. He instantly wanted to retort back that of course he would feel the same, but the words were stuck on his tongue. His brow furrowed as his brothers hypothetical washed over him, spinning around in his head. Would he feel the same? If he and...Chloe were working on this as a case, would he find it excusable?

The truth burned his tongue and his shoulders slumped in defeat. He turned his head, resting the other cheek on his knee so he could better see his twin.

“What would you have me do Mi?... I still love her, and I don’t want you, or any of our siblings, and especially not  _ Father _ taking action against her. She… she doesn’t deserve to face Father’s wrath.” His face twisted up in distaste, remembering vividly just how cruel their Father could be.

Michael sighed and squeezed his hand.

“Father has already told everyone—”

Lucifer cut in, his head snapping up and his dark eyes blown wide.

“What do you mean Father told everyone?!”

Michael had the decency to blush and turn his gaze to the stars.

“Well we were all gathered because Gabe had been sent off by Father without a word and no one knew what was going on. Rae-Rae came in and announced that you had been harmed and Gabe was sent to aid you, and Father came into the Hall, pulled Rae-Rae and I out after telling everyone to basically get over their anger because it had been long enough and to know better. Then he told Rae-Rae to go handle the priest and I was to handle the wom—…  _ Chloe.”  _ His voice was full of loathing on the last word, though he tried to control it for his brother's sake.

Lucifer barely noticed, too caught up in what Michael had told him. He sat there gaping like a fish, his mouth opening and closing with no sound coming out as he scrambled to pull his mind back into working order.

“So  _ everyone _ knows how I was…?!”

Michael rolled his eyes, sitting up to flick his brother's forehead.

“Yes. Most were angry. Some at you, the majority at what had happened  _ to you _ .”

Lucifer sat back, quietly stunned. He shook himself mentally and refocused on his brother.

“Father is  _ apparently _ angry and hasn’t taken decisive action? Did he say what he wanted done?”

Michael shrugged, looking askance.

“He really left it up to Rae-Rae and I. Though he mentioned that he wanted another demonstration to humanity, so they’d remember the full meaning of Heavenly Fury for the priest. The woman… he wants her to face human judgement, and leaving her ultimate fate up to you to decide.”

Lucifer choked, reaching up to touch his brother's cheek and turn Mîchael to face him fully. His brown eyes were full of shock and disbelief.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you correctly.  _ Father  _ wants  _ me  _ to pass judgement on Chloe?! Chloe Decker who, by the way, is  _ his miracle?!” _

Michael sighed and reached up, cradling his brother’s hand to his cheek.

“Yes, you heard me correctly. He said… he said he placed her in your path to give you a chance. For what was up to you but he had  _ hoped _ it would be for good.”

Lucifer made a small noise of disbelief, shaking his head but not turning away from piercing blue eyes.

“This is utterly ridiculous Mi. Father must be going batty in his old age.”

Michael let out a bark of laughter, dropping his brother’s hand.

“Sammy! Behave!”

Lucifer shook his head again and let out his own short laugh, running a hand through his hair again.

“Me? Never. I’m the  _ fun _ twin remember. Rebellion and all that doesn’t exactly make me a model for good behavior.”

Michael sighed in exasperation, punching his brother’s shoulder lightly.

“Either way. The fact remains that Father has only decreed she will face human punishment. I am here to ensure that she not only receives it, but  _ accepts  _ it. He wants her punished by celestial judgement, but is willing to defer to you. He  _ knows _ you wouldn’t want us to punish her ourselves. But… Sammy, you may rail against it as you always do, but you  _ are _ a good punisher. You did it well in Heaven, in Hell, and you have not only sought to  _ punish _ the guilty on Earth, but also seek  _ justice. _ Chloe Decker is  _ guilty _ brother. Love is not enough to save her.”

Lucifer snorted, looking away once more. The white dwarf before him sang sweetly, and it’s soft, delicate cadence pulsed through his core. He took comfort in the calming song as he ordered his thoughts together.

“How was she? When you went to see her?”

Michael scowled. It was his turn to pick up a rock and toss it into space, though his was frozen solid as it drifted away.

“Guilty. Tearful. But still denying full responsibility.”

Lucifer pursed his lips together in a tight line.

“What if I said I do not wish for her to receive further punishment?”

It was Michael’s turn to snort.

“Then I will take your place as Judge.”

Lucifer looked at him sharply, eyes narrowing to deadly slits as hellfire roared to life.

“I wouldn’t allow you to harm her soul Mi.”

Michael met his gaze head on as lightning flashed in his blue orbs.

“Then do not refuse to be her judge Sammy. My rage against the woman ensures that if you do not seek to fulfill the punishment she deserves, I will deliver it. Mercy is not one of my strong suits.”

Lucifer growled and looked away, fists clenching.

“Nor is it one of mine, Mi.” He took a deep breath, his tense shoulders sagging once more. “I… I don’t even know how to go about punishing her.”

Michael put a hand on his shoulder, offering quiet comfort and solidarity.

“Right now, I doubt you could come up with one. Would you like my suggestion?”

Lucifer looked at him incredulously, letting out a breathless laugh.

“Didn’t you just finish saying punishment is what I  _ do?  _ Something that I do  _ well?” _

Michael rolled his eyes and slapped the back of his brother's head. He blocked the returning smack but missed the jab to his ribs, sucking in a breath and glaring at his twin.

“Do you want the advice or not Sammy?”

Lucifer chuckled and shook his head, looking back out to the stars.

“Fine, fine. Lay it on me O’ wise and knowledgeable Prince of Heaven.”

Michael shook his head and settled down, looking back to the galaxy below their feet.

“Idiot. You have always made sure that the guilty recognize  _ how _ they’ve done wrong. Whatever you decide… make her punishment fit her crime.”

Lucifer cast his brother a thoughtful glance, wonder shimmering in his brown eyes, as well as a spark of mischief.

“Mi… that was… that wasn’t horrible!”

With a growl Michael tackled his brother, wrestling him to the ground with his legs wrapped around Lucifer’s waist and started messing with his twin’s hair, growling at him playfully.

“You are such an ass brother!”

Lucifer let out a full bellied laugh as he fought against his brother, scuffling with him in the dirt like they were newly created fledglings. He sent a light jab to Michael’s ribs, bringing up a knee so he could push himself free.

“I’m just letting you know I appreciate the obvious strain that must have put you through!”

Michael growled and tackled him. Wings snapping out behind him in a brilliant golden flare behind him as they tumbled from their seat, hurtling away from the asteroid belt and into the star. They laughed as they fought in the heart of the star, exchanging glancing blows and carefully aimed strikes with their knees. They lost time as they scuffled, taking out their frustrations on each other. They traded blows as often as they traded insults and jokes, something they hadn’t done in eons.

Eventually they began to wind down, leaving the heart of the white dwarf and flying off, leaving behind the asteroid belt and their star. They dipped and weaved between the stars as they made their way back to earth in leisure. They were silent, most of the way back. Before they entered the Milky Way Lucifer looked to his twin, a small frown on his face.

“I… whatever I decide, I won’t enact until after she’s lived her life.”

Michael frowned, but gave a terse nod, flying close enough for their wings to brush.

“So be it.”

Lucifer shuddered with the force of releasing his breath, turning his eyes back to earth. Unwilling to let their playful banter end on a sour note, he offered one last quipp to his twin.

“By the way, I go by Lucifer now, Mi.”

Michael snorted. He tucked his wings in to do a tight roll over his brother. When he was halfway through the roll and directly above his twin, he snapped out a hand to tug on one of his feathers, laughing when Lucifer let out an undignified yelp and his wings flapped rapidly to correct his flight.

“Whatever you say Sammy.”

They stopped for another bout of fighting, somewhere amidst the stars of the Milky Way, the earth spinning lazily beneath their feet.

Chloe had sunken into the core of Lucifer, she had become the one human that he had truly come to care for. His reunion with his twin had done wonders to help heal the worst of his grief, wounds that Raphael was unfortunately powerless to work on. His very soul screamed with the agony of her betrayal, and still his heart beat for her. For the first woman he had ever loved. 

His mind fought against the wiles of his heart, trying to rapidly rebuild the walls that had crumbled and eroded away over the past three years. Perhaps in time, he’d be able to move past the pain of her betrayal fully, but for now, his heart and soul screamed for the woman he had loved, the woman he continued to love despite everything. 

But a corner of Lucifer’s mind, the corner that thrived on delivering punishment to the guilty, began to ponder on his brother’s words.

What to do with Chloe Decker?...

  
  


*~*~*~*~*

Ella sat tucked away in a cozy nook in the little cafe, beside a giant window facing the bustling city streets. The sun shone down on her and warmed her face. Her lips pulled up into a tiny, contented smile as she turned her face into the warmth. Closing her eyes and enjoying the heat of the sun against her skin. Her black hair reflected the sunlight like a raven’s wing, falling around her shoulders like an ebony waterfall. She’d slipped on a simple dark blue blouse, tucked into washed out blue jeans and her normal sneakers. Her crucifix dangled down the v cut of her blouse, flickering in the light of the sun.

That was how Raguel found her, her bright soul illuminated by the rays of sunlight, and his breath caught in his throat, his blue eyes widening to the point it was nearly comedic. He stopped in the doorway to the cafe, the little bell chiming above his head though he paid it no heed. He couldn’t stop himself from drinking in the sight of her like a man in the desert stumbling across an oasis. She looked…Divine…

Swallowing to himself, Raguel collected his thoughts, and his polite smile came easily as he approached her table.

If his siblings were there, they would have noted with glee that his smile was a bit wider, a bit more bright.

He cleared his throat as he reached her table, smiling softly as she jumped and her head whipped around to face him.

“Sorry to startle you, may I sit?” His voice was soft as he waved one hand to the chair across from her.

Ella smiled, a bit dazed at his presence.

“Oh! Uh yea! Kinda the point of coming to a cafe to talk right?” She gave a small, almost nervous chuckle. She reached up and fiddled with her necklace, turning to face him fully. The shift changed the way the light reflected, seemingly illuminating her in a halo of gold.

Raguel struggled for words, his tongue heavy and clumsy in his mouth.

“Right… right yes, that is the point isn’t it?” 

They sat there, both taking in the sight of the other, losing themselves to their own thoughts for a few minutes as they each tried to gather their courage to speak.

Raguel meant to break it first, opening his mouth to speak before Ella rushed in, words spewing from her lips in a sudden and, almost violent, rush.

“Are you Lucifer’s brother?”

Raguel stopped. His crystalline blue eyes widened a fraction and the words lingering on the tip of his tongue vanished. He made a small noise of distress in the back of his throat that he will  _ never _ admit to his siblings actually happened.

Right. Siblings.

“Where did that particular thought come from?!” He couldn’t help the slightly higher pitch to his words (another thing he will  _ never _ admit to his siblings) as he stared at her in ill concealed shock.

Ella bit her lip, still fidgeting her necklace as she took a deep breath in through her nose.

“Can you just… answer me honestly? I promise I’ll explain after, like, pinky promise!”

He didn’t know what a ‘pinky promise’ was, but he could see the sincerity in her eyes, really in her  _ soul. _

He took in a deep breath, counting to ten as he tried to organize his thoughts. He was supposed to be helping Gabe go through the human justice system. Gabe had outright stated that humans didn’t allow family to work on their relatives cases, it was why Michael wasn’t able to fulfill their Father’s task outright, and had instead recruited Gabe. If Ella told her colleagues…

He looked into her shining dark eyes and heaved an internal sigh. He couldn’t lie to her… not when she was being so sincere. It had nothing to do with his unexplainable pull to the unique human. None. 

His siblings were not going to hear about this meeting or conversation  _ ever. _ It had barely been five minutes since he arrived, he wasn’t going to make this through without embarrassing himself now, of that he was fairly certain.

“... Yes. He is… one of my younger siblings. I’m sure you understand, but I cannot have our connection revealed, otherwise I won’t be able to continue working on the case.”

Ella let out a shaky breath, unable to contain her squeal of delight. Several heads turned in their direction, causing her cheeks to flush in embarrassment but she quickly waved it off. She was right! Holy crap she was right!

Her smile was blinding as she fairly bounced in her seat. She made a  _ very _ concentrated effort to lower her voice.

“So that means you’re the real deal! You’re the actual Archangel of Justice! Holy crap I’m sitting across from an actual angel!”

Raguel’s mouth dropped open, his eyes nearly popping out of their sockets as the breath left his lungs in a rush.

What?!

Snapping his head around to make sure no one heard that last bit. He felt uncharacteristic nervous laughter bubbling up within his chest and he fought it down valiantly. He couldn't, however, fight off the strained chuckle that wormed its way up his throat.

“I-I’m sure I don’t know what you mean Ella.”

Ella shook her head, still smiling and her bouncing only got worse.

“No no it’s fine, I figured it out. I mean, blood that has no known match on Earth, feathers that don’t fit any living species, and a crazy priest attacking a guy named Lucifer with Latin script that talks about banishing the Devil? Lucifer is the real deal, and if you're his brother, then you have to be the actual Raguel!”

Said archangel could only stare at her dumbly. His mind puzzled over her words while he gaped at her. Focusing on the part that stuck out the most. Well beyond the incredible revelation that this human woman  _ knew _ and was the one sitting here calmly. Well, relatively calmly. She may bounce out of her seat soon...

“You can tell his blood isn’t human?”

Ella tilted her head in confusion, her brow furrowing as her bouncing came to an abrupt stop.

“Well yea, I just ran some basic tests on it and got nothing back. It’s really interesting too, because I can definitely see some similarities in human DNA, but the number of chromosomal pairs is the confusing part, because they don’t match human or avian DNA. They don’t actually match any known DNA on earth.”

Raguel only caught about half of what she was saying, the technical terms lost in him. But he gleaned enough to understand that he was careless, and this could not be allowed to continue. Ella Lopez was officially an anomaly in his book, as she sat here across from an archangel  _ completely sane, _ with proof of divinity metaphorically within her hands.

It had been physically there as well, but she left all her samples at the lab.

The lab. In the precinct. Where other humans worked. Other humans who may take proof of the divine a lot less calmly than this astounding woman had.

Raguel felt himself softening again, his thoughts neatly back in order as he met Ella’s gaze. He tried to conceal the way his heart constricted in his chest, though he didn’t know why.

“Well, seeing as you’ve already figured it out, I guess I don’t have much point in trying to hide. You are… absolutely fascinating Ella Lopez.”

He shook his head, smiling at the scientist across from him. He looked over to the counter, waving over the barista with a pointed, polite look. “Pardon me, would you be able to bring us two large caramel macchiatos? With an extra shot of espresso please?” He handed the barista a few bills from his pocket, smiling politely. “And please keep the change.”

Ella watched as he handed over three hundred dollars and found herself chuckling, shaking her head in amazement. He probably had no idea how much he overpaid them. Lucifer’s frivolous spending suddenly made a lot more sense. 

Angels probably had no concept of the value of money.

The barista brought over their drinks, brimming with energy and bubbling with enthusiasm before scampering away to talk to their coworkers.

Raguel shook his head, slightly confused before turning back to Ella.

“Well, you don’t seem to need any clarification from me, Ella. You seem perfectly capable of finding out whatever you want on your own.”

Ella shifted in her seat, her smile slipping and she gripped her mug in her hand, taking a deep gulp of the coffee. Her dark eyes filled with worry, like a cloud obscuring the sun.

“I… man, I wish that was true. But… I had to ask, I mean finding out that angels and demons are  _ real _ real, not just metaphors in the Bible, I just… is… is Lucifer still alive? There was a lot of blood at his penthouse and…” she choked up, swiping at her eyes as more tears welled up. “I-I know I’m big on having faith but… this is different and I keep struggling to hold out hope that he’s…. that he’s…” she closed her eyes taking in a deep breath. “The poison in the wine glass was enough to kill a normal human in like, a few hours!” Her voice stutters out as her fear overwhelms her momentarily.

Raguel stretched across the table, capturing one of her hands in his and squeezing gently. He waited until she looked up, his stomach clenching at the sight of tears caught in her lashes. 

“Lucifer is alive.”

Ella lets out a choked sob, her free hand coming up to her cover her mouth, trying not to draw undue attention to them. Her eyes brighten again and her sob turns into a laugh.

“Oh thank God!”

Raguel’s lips twitch up into a genuine smile, his blue eyes sparkling with humor.

“Quite.”

Her laugh is a bit happier this time around, her blush returning to her cheeks.

“Can I… can I go visit him? Where has he been?”

Raguel took a sip from his drink, looking at it in surprise. This was actually quite good!

“He’s staying with a Doctor Linda Martin. We could go back together? It’s a short walk from here. Though he… left a few hours ago, so he may be back either later tonight or tomorrow.”

She bit her lip, looking into the depths of her coffee.

“Would it… well I know where Linda lives, so I can swing by tomorrow. Would you like to still...well sit here and talk?” She looked up at him from beneath her lashes, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth shyly. “I do still want to talk about everything. I mean, I’ve always believed in the Big Guy but to finally have proof that it’s all real… I have a few questions.”

The archangel sits back in his seat, crossing his arms across his chest and nodding.

“I will do my best to answer your questions. However… would you be willing to help me in return?” He looked at her beseechingly, his gaze earnest. “You have handled this incredibly well, but I will need your help…  _ altering _ the evidence. Humanity cannot have such blatant proof of divinity. I was not aware you all had grown so much to be able to study the blood at the scene…Not to mention that if this poison was so deadly, I don’t know how we would explain it to the human courts that my brother is alive...”

Ella’s eyes had bulged and her mouth formed a little ‘o’ of surprise.

“Oh  _ mios Dios! _ You’re right! It’s alright, I’m still in charge of the evidence for the case. I can just write my formal report stating the blood was a match to Lucifer’s, and the feathers… well those I can probably just fudge a bit and say they were from a couch cushion.”

Raguel laughed, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

“I cannot wait to tell Lucifer his feathers are couch stuffing. He has always been so vain.”

Ella joined him in laughing, her spirits lifted and her heart high.

“So really quickly, can the Big Guy hear prayers for real? I haven’t just been talking to myself?”

The archangel snorted lips twisting up further. It was impossible not to smile around this woman.

“Yes, Father can hear all the prayers directed at him. Sandolphon can hear all the prayers of humanity as well. He generally helps filter through the prayers that are meaningful, like for strength, against frivolous whims like trying to win the lottery. We can all hear prayers, if you direct them to us.”

Ella’s eyes widened comically.

“Wait you mean like I can pray to you and the others?”

Raguel nodded, putting his hands together in front of him to demonstrate. “Put your hands together in front of you. When you think, put your utter faith in it being heard by whomever you intend to reach.”

She mimicked his movements, closing her eyes and biting her lip.

Raguel shivered as her words floated through his mind like a gentle caress of the wind.

_ ‘Raguel? Can you hear me? Testing one two three?’ _

“Loud and clear, Ella.”

Her eyes opened and she beamed at him, once again bouncing in her seat.

“Oh that is awesome! I am so going to use that when you guys don’t answer your phone. Oh! Okay so what about—”

She continued to chatter on, her entire face lit with excitement and exuberance. Raguel was content listening to her speak, chiming in and answering her questions when she had them, but for the most part just enjoying her company and her chatter. This woman really was amazing… she sat relatively calmly across from him, an archangel, showing no fear. She was friends with the Fist of God and the Lightbringer, and she showed  _ no fear. _

He could truly begin to understand why Lucifer and their Father were so fond of them.

Raguel himself was certainly growing fond...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter, I’ve been working on it for a few days. It’s some more Lucifer and Michael reunion, and some Ella and Raguel fluff. I’m thinking next chapter I may switch back to a new perspective, just not sure who’s yet.


	14. Everything is Wrong

Something bad was going on with her Mommy, and it scared her.

Trixie sat on her bed at her Daddy’s apartment, combing the hair on one of her dolls as she listened to her Daddy talk on the phone in the other room. She hadn’t seen her Mommy in a few days, and Daddy wasn’t answering her questions. When she asked about her Mommy and when she could go home, Daddy would look away from her, unable to look at her face when he muttered ‘soon, monkey. Mommy is just… dealing with stuff right now.’

It was always the same. Soon Monkey. Not right now. I’m not sure.

Her Daddy was a horrible liar, and something had been wrong with her Mommy for a long time and no one seemed to realize that she  _ knew _ that.

Trixie let out a huff as she tossed her doll back onto her bed.

She was  _ ten _ not  _ stupid. _

Adults were so dumb sometimes.

Mommy had been acting strange since they took that trip to Europe. It had been kinda fun, and Trixie really loved gelato, but her Mommy had been jumpy the entire time. Mommy tried to hide it, but her eyes were constantly red and puffy, and Trixie heard her Mommy crying at night in their hotel room. She could see the way her Mommy was trying to keep it together for her though, trying to smile through her exhaustion and pain. So Trixie didn’t ask why her Mommy had taken them away from their home and family and friends. She didn’t tell her Mommy after the first week that she really just wanted to go home. Her Mommy was distracted and sad enough.

Trixie really wanted to tell her to take her home though when the old man started coming around.

Her Mommy tried to make sure Trixie was distracted whenever she met with the old man, but Maze had taught her how to listen while pretending not to be. When Mommy and the old man spoke in quiet voices, Trixie would subtly shift to hear better, pretending to grab a crayon or another piece of paper.

She wasn’t supposed to hate people, but she really hated the old man. She figured he was a priest by his weird clothes, but he was a  _ mean  _ one. He kept talking about Lucifer being evil and… and Mommy didn’t seem to be arguing with him.

It was so stupid! Lucifer wasn’t evil! He wasn’t a liar! He was  _ Lucifer _ , her friend, Mommy’s friend! He protected them from the bad man when she was kidnapped, he always tried to keep Mommy safe at work, he helped save Mommy when she was dying. He got the bullies to leave her alone with his red eyes the first time he met her, even though he didn’t really like kids all that much.

And this mean old man thought that Lucifer was evil? He was a stupid mean old man.

She thought her Mommy had realized that when they left Italy after a  _ month _ of being away from home. She thought everything would go back to normal, Maze had apologized, and Mommy was working with Lucifer again. When Mommy said she was going to see Lucifer last Friday. When Mommy had come back later that night and the babysitter had left, Trixie had crept out of her room, smiling and brimming with energy, intent to ask her mommy how it went. If she and Lucifer had fun and if they did gross naked stuff. 

Instead she found her mommy crying at the table. So Trixie had left her mommy alone. Thinking that maybe Lucifer had upset her and would come by soon to apologize.

But days went by, and Mommy tried to put up her front like she did in Rome but she’s worse at it. She forgets to feed Trixie, but that’s okay. Trixie is ten and knows how to pour herself cereal in the morning. Her Mommy tries to remember to cook lunch and dinner but when she forgets, Trixie uses her Mommy’s account to order them food throughout the weekend. Mommy doesn’t say much, but Trixie thinks that maybe the fight was bad and her mommy is pre… preoccupied? Lucifer taught her that word a few months before they left. Yea. Her mommy is preoccupied. So it wasn’t that bad. 

Not until Wednesday rolls around at least. That’s when things get worse. Her Daddy picked her up from school and she hasn’t seen Mommy since. 

She hasn’t seen Lucifer either, not since before Mommy’s date over a week ago,

Now it’s Saturday, and her Daddy is still being… evasive about what’s wrong with Mommy, so she does what she did with the mean old man in Rome. She listens carefully to her Daddy on the phone. He was acting weird when he got home earlier today, a bit jumpy too, but not like mommy was. He’s still quiet though when he’s on the phone, but loud enough that she can make out a few words. He’s talking about Lucifer to someone on the phone too, and she also hears him say her Mommy’s name, and ‘defense attorney’. She even makes out a full sentence when he raises his voice, he sounds really sad and angry at the same time, ‘I can’t go and do it, the FBI will have to do it’.

She learns enough to back away from the doorway, careful to be quiet even though her little heart is pounding.

Something is  _ really  _ wrong, and her Daddy isn’t being honest with her.

But she knows someone who will be.

She closes her door and moves over to the furthest corner just in case as she pulls her phone off the dresser. She scrolls through her contacts and hits her best friends number, putting the phone to her ear and glancing at the door, hoping Daddy is still busy on his own call. It doesn’t take long for her to pick up

“What’s wrong, Little Human?”

Trixie smiles and plays with her hair.

“Maze? Can you come pick me up? Just tell Daddy you want to take me to ice cream.”

Maze is quiet for a few seconds, and Maze is  _ never _ quiet unless she’s thinking about something.

“Why do you want me to pick you up?”

Trixie frowns looking at her doll on the bed.

“Because something is wrong and Daddy won’t answer me. I know you won’t lie to me. We can go somewhere and practice with my knives.”

Mommy and Daddy weren’t supposed to know that Maze had gotten her a set of her own a long time ago. Or that she was teaching a Trixie how to use them and how to fight. She really really  _ really _ wanted to start practicing her throwing technique, but Maze said she had to get better at holding  _ onto  _ her weapon before she started throwing them away.

She could hear Maze chuckle through the phone.

“Yea, Dan sucks at lying. Alright then little human. Get your knives and give me fifteen minutes. Don’t tell Dan I’m coming.”

Trixie rolls her eyes and snorts. 

“Please, I’m not  _ stupid. _ ”

Maze laughs again, her voice a loud cackle.

“No, little human, you aren’t.”

Trixie hung up the phone, stuffing it into her jacket pocket. She slips on her sneakers and reaches beneath her mattress, pulling out the set of knives Maze got her. They’re identical in shape and color to Maze’s, but not hell forged, because Maze can’t get to Hell without an angel taking her and she didn’t care to ask for help just now. Maze also admitted that Trixie needed to practice with normal blades before being allowed to use the real deal.

Maze may have been a demon, but Trixie appreciates the fact that Maze knows that Trixie can be responsible and doesn’t need coddling.

Honestly, Trixie was really worried about what her Mommy could have done to make Lucifer stay away, and for her Daddy to not let her see mommy. She was starting to worry her Mommy may have done something bad. She’s starting to think the mean old man from Rome had convinced mommy that Lucifer was evil.

Just because he’s the  _ devil  _ doesn’t mean he’s  _ evil. _ Maze was a demon and she was pretty cool, she even used her scary face to help Trixie get more Halloween candy. 

Sometimes adults were so  _ stupid. _ She was starting to realize her Mommy may have been just a little stupid too…

Sure enough, fifteen minutes later, which Trixie had spent practicing with her knives in her room, she hears the knock on her daddy’s door, and rushes from the room, lingering behind the door frame into the living room, watching her daddy get up from the kitchen counter and open the door.

Daniel looks at Maze in surprise, and with a new appreciation for the demoness.

“Maze? What are you doing here?”

Maze looks at him, smirking when she notes his wariness.

“I came to take the little human for ice cream. Figured you’d like some time to yourself now that you believe us, you know I won’t let anything happen to Trix.”

Dan chokes, looking at Maze in all her leather glory, holding a pink bike helmet for Trix under her arm. His daughter's best friend was a demon. That was so many levels of fucked up… but at least Maze knew to make his daughter wear a helmet.

“You know what? I could. Use the time. And honestly, knowing what you are just makes me think you’ll literally go to Hell and back for her so… yea. I trust you with Trix. Just don’t hurt her like you did by picking a fight with me.”

Maze has the decency to look slightly abashed but her grin is wide and sharp, delight lighting up her eyes. She punches Dan in the arm, smirking and relaxing her shoulders.

“I don’t plan to. And I already apologized to the little human. Trix! You can stop eavesdropping.” She tosses the helmet into the living room and Trixie jumps out from her hiding spot, catching the helmet with a large grin. She jumps up and down in excitement squealing.

“Hi Maze! Bye Daddy!” She tugs the helmet on and rushes at Maze, grabbing her hand and tugging her through the door. “Come on let’s go let’s go!”

Dan laughs, feeling lighter than he has in a long time.

“I didn’t even give you permission yet Monkey!”

Trixie waves with her free hand, her jacket flapping behind her.

“Yea but you gave Maze permission so it’s like the same thing! Love you Daddy!”

Dan can’t help but to laugh again, watching them disappear down the staircase, listening to his daughter stomp down the steps.

“Love you too Monkey!” He shakes his head, closing the door and going back to his kitchen table to think over the revelations and the looming investigation. He still had no idea how he was going to explain any of this to Trixie…

  
  


Out front, Trixie climbed onto the motorcycle, wrapping her arms around Maze’s waist tightly. Maze glanced over her friend, making sure she had her helmet on tightly and her arms wrapped around well enough. Without further delay she starts up the motorcycle and races off into the street. She refrains from weaving in and out of traffic recklessly, but doesn’t bother to obey speed limits. Trixie whoops and cheers behind her with the speed, and Maze feels warmth growing in her chest.

Soon enough thanks to Maze’s hasty driving, they park the bike and take off their helmets, walking over to a bench at the ice cream parlor near their favorite park.

“Here, watch our helmets while I grab our ice cream. And if someone tries to take you—”

Trixie takes her seat, setting their helmets on the side of the table next to each other.

“Slash, don’t stab or my knives will get stuck and I’ll be the one getting hurt. Go for the groin and back of the knees to take down my enemy. Scream fire because people suck and won’t help if I scream for help. Do as much damage as I can until you come to finish them.”

Maze grins proudly down at her little human, ruffling her hair in approval.

“Excellent. Keep one of your knives in your hands, practice under the table sheathing your weapon and drawing it.”

Trixie nods and begins to do just that, making sure no one else can see her practicing with her knife at the table, sheathing it over and over again as she concentrated on becoming more familiar with her weapon.

Maze smirks with pride and turns to get their ice cream. The little human wanted honesty, and Maze was going to give it to her. But she didn’t want that bitches mistakes to cause the little human more pain than necessary. So she couldn’t just blurt out that her mother tried to kill Lucifer. She’d learned her lesson on emotional hurt being just as bad as physical pain, and she wasn’t about to hurt Trixie intentionally ever again.

Sighing, she threw some money onto the counter, grabbed their cones, and walked slowly back to the picnic table set apart from the rest of the park goers. Trixie’s mouth was pulled into a frown, her brows furrowed with the weight of her concentration. Maze could see the flash of the blade beneath the table. The kid was doing pretty good keeping the blade hidden while she practiced.

“Here, take with one hand, keep practicing with the other. You need to be able to split your attention.”

Trixie takes her cone happily, licking the tip of her cone and smiling widely. Her movements get slower as she tries to be more careful, but she dutifully keeps working.

“Thanks Maze. So? What’s really going on? Why is Daddy sad? And why can’t I see Mommy?”

Maze sighs through her nose, taking a bite out of her ice cream, enjoying the rush of freezing cold that sends sparks of pain through her brain. She needs the pain to help ground her. This was going to hurt her little human, so it should hurt her too.

“It’s bad, really bad. I don’t want to hurt you Trix. So unless you’re absolutely sure…”

Trixie nodded, taking another lick and not letting her gaze drift from Maze’s face.

“I know, I want the truth. Does it have something to do with the mean old man Mommy met in Rome? And why she was so jumpy?”

Maze snorts, waiting for the pain to fade from her brain before taking another bite to keep it going.

“Yea. Your mom listened to the bastard and tried to seriously hurt Lucifer. His brother Gabriel had to get involved. Now some of his other siblings are getting involved. She’s pissed a lot of people off and she may be getting into a lot of trouble soon.”

Trixie swallowed, staring at her ice cream cone as tears welled in her eyes. Her movements beneath the table falter and she cuts her finger slightly as the knife slips.

Maze scents the blood, her eyes focusing in on Trixie.

“Keep going. Don’t give up. No matter  _ what  _ happens to throw you off, you  _ never _ let your blade falter Trix.”

Trixie swallows and nods, biting her lip and slowly begins to practice again.

“Did mommy hurt Lucifer because he’s the Devil?”

Maze frowned and took a savage bite from her cone.

“Yea. Yea she did. She found out and she flipped. Couldn’t think past her fear. Not all humans are like you, little human.”

Trixie nodded, hesitantly taking another bite of her ice cream.

“Is Lucifer okay?”

Maze hesitates, looking at her friend thoughtfully before giving a short, terse nod.

“Yea, he’ll be fine. He’s sad and angry, but he’s healing.”

Trixie nodded and tried to push her tears away. Maze taught her to push her emotions away until later. Focus on the present and let your anger and sadness out later. When they weren’t in public, Trixie would spend an hour crying against Maze’s shoulder, and Maze would hold her tightly. But Trixie needed answers now. She still had so many questions but her little mind was starting to put things together. She was the daughter of two really really good cops. She knows how to put facts together to see the picture.

If her Daddy was this sad and angry, then her Mommy had hurt Lucifer worse than Maze was letting on. Maze was being honest with her, but still was trying to protect Trixie from being too angry and hurt with her mommy.

This time, Trixie knew it wasn’t because Maze thought she couldn’t handle it. Maze didn’t try to protect her with the stupid ‘adult stuff’ excuse. If Maze wasn’t telling her, it meant it was even  _ worse _ than she had thought from her Daddy being angry.

“Maze? Do I… am I supposed to hate mommy? For hurting Lucifer? I know she did something bad, but… does that mean I have to hate her now?”

Maze frowned, contemplating her friend and finishing her ice cream in one last vicious crunch of teeth. She wasn’t sure how to answer that but… this was Trixie...

“I can’t tell you that. You should ask Linda, she gets the  _ feelings _ thing. I hate my mother, but Lilith is a bitch. Most of us hate her. I think it’s up to you how you feel about her. But if you’re worried, none of us will be mad at you for not hating her.”

Trixie nodded, taking a small bite out of her ice cream.

“Okay, I’m upset, but I… I don’t hate her. I still love my mommy.”

Maze grimaced, shaking her head.

“It’s fine kid. Finish your ice cream. We’ll go over to our usual spot. Just for today, I’ll let you practice throwing.” She hoped the offer would lift her friends spirits, and is rewarded by the bright smile as Trixie rushes to finish her ice cream.

They dash off to the corpse of trees and Maze takes out her own knives, carving a rough target into one of the trees at Trixie’s height and slightly above. She makes a third target, at about double Trixie's height to practice herself and show Trixie the technique. She lets Trixie start up five feet away, and slowly moves her away over the next few hours, stopping her move backwards when they reach the fifteen foot mark. Most of the throws land outside the target, or fall to the ground in front of the tree as they move back. A few land within the outer circles. They practice over and over, Trixie’s spirits slowly lifting as time wears on. When her arms grow tired they take a break and Maze gives her a run down on how to fix her mistakes, encourages her in what she does well, and gives her a few pointers.

The shadows shift as the hours trickle by. The trees wave in the breezes that rustle through the leaves in a living sea of emerald. People amble by, unaware of the two figures practicing their knives, obscured by the low hanging branches and the high brush. The birds chirp away, hidden in their nests from prying eyes.

They kept going until Trixie managed to hit the bullseye from fifteen feet away three times, the little girl squealing in excitement at her accomplishment. Maze can’t contain her smile as she ruffles the girl’s hair fondly.

“Alright little human. That’s enough for today. Good job.”

Trixie beams, taking Maze’s hand after they retrieve their knives, going back to their picnic table as they set about cleaning and piling their knives. Caring for your weapon was as important as learning to use it according to Maze.

“Thanks Maze. How long until we can do that again?”

Maze snorts and keeps stroking the blade, using her cloth and oil to clean off any dirt and sap from the trees.

“Not until you get a bit bigger and I teach you more hand to hand. When you throw your knife into a target, you lose your weapon. Consider it gone. That means you have to be confident that your entire  _ body _ is a weapon. If the loss of a weapon is a loss to  _ you, _ don’t toss it. Understood?”

Trixie nods seriously, mirroring Maze’s movements as she cleans her blades. They sit in silence for a while, just methodically cleaning. When both sets are done, and the pair begins to make their way back to Maze’s bike, the sun is beginning to dip into the horizon and the sky lights up with an array of red and orange.

“Maze?”

The demoness looks down at the little human.

“Yea?”

Trixie wraps her arms around Maze’s waist, hugging her tightly.

“Thank you for being honest with me.”

Maze offers a small, soft smile and wraps her arms around the little girl, crouching down to hold her better. She rests her head on Trixie’s, inhaling the scent of her friend.

“You’re welcome.”

Maze stands and ruffles her hair affectionately. 

“Alright, come on Trix. We need to get you back to Dan.”

Trixie nodded, pulling her helmet on and climbing onto the back of the bike again. They begin to wind their way through the city, speeding along the streets as the city lights flicker to life, casting shadows as the darkness grows. Trixie doesn’t cheer this time around, but she watches the lights of the city blur by, hugging Maze tightly. She loves her Mommy. And even though she was sad and angry that her Mommy had hurt Lucifer, but she didn’t…  _ couldn’t  _ hate her. In the end, she was still her mommy…

Maybe she can go and visit Lucifer, if he was feeling sad like Maze said, then he needed a hug. And some cuddles. Cuddles made her feel better. Maybe if she brought monopoly, she could lift his spirits and get him to laugh.

Content with her plan of action, Trixie resolves to try and visit Lucifer soon, and maybe let her Daddy know she was sad and angry too, and he wouldn’t have to try and hide it anymore. They could be sad and angry together. Maybe he’d feel better. Maybe they’d both feel better...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I just wrote this one today, I felt like we needed a bit of Trixie’s POV. I love Trixie, she’s such an insightful and compassionate kid in the series. I’ve read stories where Trixie completely turns against her mom and I definitely think it will hit her more going forward and that it will be hard, but I don’t think she could ever fully hate her mom.


	15. The Hostess to the Host

It was later on Saturday evening when the Twins finally reappeared in Linda’s backyard. They had disappeared from the house sometime afternoon on Friday. Linda had become worried when they didn’t reappear after the first few hours, but Amenadiel and Raphael had reassured her that the twins would most likely return in a day or so, and not to worry. So Linda had moved around the house anxiously after they had left, flitting from one task to the next, trying to engage in conversation with the angels that had flown down to visit.

Angels. In her house. She was playing host to angels. She was the Hostess to the Host. She let out an involuntary snort at that thought, earning her concern from Amenadiel and curiosity from Raphael and Raguel. And oooh boy was Raguel something else. Really, all of the siblings were something else. They were all  _ gorgeous  _ first of all. And each in their own unique way. They weren’t charming and somewhat hypnotizing like Lucifer was, where he was the definition of tall, dark, and handsome. 

Raphael was striking with her amber eyes, mocha skin, and dark hazel and chestnut hair. She exuded an aura of overwhelming peace and warmth, like drinking hot cocoa while wrapped in blankets in front of a fire. When she spoke, her words were strong and authoritative, but still gentle. Linda found herself gravitating to her more than the others, mostly because she was a fascinating conversationalist. They discussed their work, and the challenges faced in healing the mind, verses healing the body. Raphael was understanding and insisted that Linda’s line of work was just as valuable as being  _ that  _ kind of Doctor, because the state of the mind often reflected or  _ affected  _ the state of the body. For celestials like Raphael and her siblings, mental health quite  _ literally  _ could determine their psychical health. Lucifer being case and point. His mental state had been a large part of why Raphael was unable to fully heal him until Michael came along.

Gabriel was more animated than Lucifer and Amenadiel, but in a softer way. Lucifer was energetic like a kid on a sugar high, but Gabriel was jovial and chipper. His eyes sparkled with his emotions and his lips always seemed to have a hint of a mile on his face. He was what she expected from the everyday surfer, his brown mop of hair always mused somehow, either from wind or running his fingers through it. It was impossible to be upset for long with Gabriel around.

Raguel… Raguel on the other hand unnerved her. Not because she was afraid or anything. No he was a perfect gentleman. His lips either set into a relax line, or pulled up into a small polite smile. He had only dropped by with Gabriel once so far. And she had studied his face carefully when he’d shown up at her house. He was respectful of her home which she appreciated, and he was always polite when she addressed him, but he didn’t speak much. He seemed content to sit and watch the others around him. What unnerved her was that she couldn’t read him.

Linda was a therapist, and part of her skill set was being able to read the body language and facial expressions of her patients, as well as what they weren’t saying when they spoke to her. Understanding people was her job. And she was  _ good  _ at it. She was the Devil’s therapist for crying out loud! She could easily read the barely restrained anger in Amenadiel’s shoulders. She could see the concern etched into the wrinkles around Raphael’s eyes. She could see the pain and confusion Gabriel covered with his bright smiles and cheerful laughter.

She could not read beyond the polite smile he painted on his lips or the calm waters of his blue eyes. 

And that unnerved her.

So when the gust of wind suddenly stirred the plants around her back patio, Linda let out a breath of relief knowing Lucifer had come back. It eased the clenching pain she felt in her heart she hadn’t realized she’d felt since he disappeared with his twin.

Which led her to analyzing this particular sibling as well. 

In all of her sessions, Lucifer had never mentioned the fact that he had a twin brother. He’d spoken some about his parents, obviously. That couldn’t be avoided with all his pent up emotion and the brief stay his mother had spent on Earth. He’d spoken a bit about his siblings like Amenadiel and Azrael. He’d mentioned Uriel (again, fairly obvious why that one had come up), they’d brought him back up a few times once Linda had… recovered, from her breakdown. But they’d never mentioned his twin brother.

Linda made a mental note to herself to bring this topic up in a later session. 

For now, she took her time to analyze Michael, while they both chatted with their siblings, Lucifer eyeing Raguel with a look of fierce contemplation on his face.

Michael was the carbon copy of Lucifer, minus the eyes. His eyes were a bright clear blue like the noontime sky. And other than the fact that his wings were apparently golden, the only other difference a human could easily see would be his curls. Lucifer preferred to keep his naturally curly hair carefully controlled with his meticulous hair care. Michael, it seemed, could care less. His curls were free and windswept and kept short enough to not obscure his vision.

The difference in  _ mannerisms _ on the other hand, were far more interesting.

Where Lucifer loved to be the center of attention, and Gabriel seemed to draw people to him with his bubbly aura, Michael seemed to stand in the forefront and yet remain separate. Lucifer drew people to him like a moth to flame, and Michael seemed to demand respect. The air around him screamed authority. His mouth was set into a firm eye and despite the clear color of his eyes, they reminded her of frost. Raguel unnerved her, Michael  _ terrified  _ her. He didn’t bother hiding his capability for violence like the rest of his siblings seemed to. It was in the blatantly careful way he interacted with his surroundings.

Lucifer was the calm before the storm. Michael  _ was  _ the storm.

She never thought she’d say that Lucifer was in anyway  _ calm. _ He practically radiated energy, always needing to be doing  _ something. _

Michael seemed like he was a predator, coiled and ready to launch himself at his prey and devour them whole.

Linda tramped down on the primal fear inside her that screamed she was in the presence of a predator, and turned her attention to studying Lucifer, her patient, her friend. He seemed overwhelmed at the sight of so many of his siblings. Like he couldn’t believe they all cared enough to come see him. To support and  _ defend him _ .

_ ‘That’s probably exactly it…’  _ Linda couldn’t help but think to herself as she watched her friend try to navigate through this confusing onslaught of attention. He probably hadn’t expected any of them to care.

Another mental note for a future session.

Lucifer was no doubt going to need biweekly sessions when the implications with his family started to hit him. He’d spent so long away from them. He’d thought for so long that none of his siblings cared about what happened to him. He’d thought his Father hadn’t cared about him. And yet Gabriel came at their Father’s command. Apparently the first since biblical times. It was like the floodgates had opened up and the uncertainty that had held his siblings back, (and boy was Linda willing to bet her reputation that they had wanted to reach out but unsure of how), had disappeared and they’d come rushing to his side.

The pain inside of Lucifer at their initial parting though, wouldn’t be erased in a few hours. His emotional scars were going to need to be reopened, and his pain and anger would have to be drained like pus from an infected wound. It would be messy, and painful. And once that draining was over, he would need time and proof that his family wouldn’t abandon him again before he could begin to reconnect without resentment.

Linda shot a look at her ceiling, letting her thoughts form with intention.

_ ‘You’ve hurt your son very badly. You, more than any of his siblings. I know you aren’t big on taking on a more active role in the Universe or whatever, but as a parent who’s harmed their child, you don’t have a say in that anymore. Lucifer deserves an apology, and if he’s going to heal he’s going to need it in person, not another ill advised miracle. Uh, Amen?’ _

She shook her head, trying not to freak out after giving  _ God  _ a talking to. She had a lot more to say but… well she didn’t violate her confidentiality law under torture from a Goddess, she wouldn’t back down from this. Lucifer had earned her trust and loyalty and she’d be damned if she ever let him down again like she had when he showed her his Devil face. Even if the ‘damning’ part of it actually came to pass.

She knew a guy after all.

But for now she was here as his friend, not his therapist. So she kept her eye on him as he spoke with his siblings, noting when Raguel and Lucifer slipped off on their own. It was the first time Lucifer had left his twin’s side since their reunion, and she could see the immediate response in Michael as his shoulders tensed. His blue eyes trained on his brother’s retreating form but he made no move to follow. Instead he stepped off to the side, away from Amenadiel and Raphael quietly speaking, ignoring Gabriel who was engrossed in the TV, and began studying her bookshelves.

Linda put a hand on her counter, breathing in deeply. 

Angels. In her house.

She pursed her lips and longed desperately for another tribe night. Minus the ex-tribe member.

The therapist took a deep settling breath and continued playing Hostess to the small fraction of the Host.

What even was her life anymore? 

She drew her phone from her pocket and shot off a quick text to Maze. She knew that Maze was spending time with Trixie right now, her friend had called her asking for advice on how to fill the little girl in on what had happened. Although uneasy, Linda acknowledged that it would probably be best coming from Maze, and it would take some of the weight off of Dan’s shoulders. Still, she hoped her friend would be able to answer her text.

She really wanted to get out of the house and Maze was the perfect person to help with that. They could use a night out, maybe go to that tiki bar, or go on a bar crawl. It wouldn’t be a tribe night, but she would have some of her tribe there. They would never get another true tribe night again, and that thought sent another pang of loss through her heart.

She glanced down when she felt her phone buzz, smiling at the message from Maze.

**Wear something slutty.**

Tonight would be a welcome relief.

  
  


*~*~*~*

  
  


Lucifer followed Raguel up the stairs and into one of Linda’s guest bedrooms on the second floor. He’d already been sent reeling by the presence of three of his siblings coming down to see him. Gabriel and Raphael had been understandable. Gabriel was sent out on a mission by Dad, and Raphael was always a bleeding heart. She could never stand to see her siblings in pain. Amenadiel was even understandable. They’d tentatively begun to build a relationship when Amenadiel had been stuck on Earth, though they still got on one another’s nerves. It made sense for him to slip into his role as the big brother.

But now, standing across from one of his older siblings, one of the rare few that he  _ liked, _ he was unsure what to say. And that was happening more frequently than Lucifer would have liked, his bouts of speechlessness. He was always ready with some kind of quip or snarky remark. An innuendo here, and joke there, he always had something to come back with.

Raguel seemed to take the snark out of him, and it was a familiar feeling. His older brother had always been more reserved than the others. Lucifer had always enjoyed his company though, their tasks had often coincided before Lucifer’s Fall. Opposite to popular belief, his Rebellion had occurred after the whole Eden fiasco. Justice and Punishment went hand in hand after all. Raguel was good at determining whether Punishment was warranted, and to what degree. Lucifer specialized in creating and executing the punishments. Beyond working together, Lucifer had always enjoyed his older brother's quiet humor and rare, witty remarks.

Lucifer had a sinking feeling that his brother’s involvement meant more than just a trip down memory lane. Raguel very rarely left the Silver City, content to help the undecided souls either overcome their guilt or succumb to it. Azrael appreciated the help, using him as a pseudo soul sitter. For him to leave that…

“What can I do for you Rags? How have you been? Enjoying the dullness of home?”

Raguel’s lips pulled up into the hint of a smile, blue eyes flickering over Lucifer’s form, taking him in fully. He stood with his arms at his sides, hands tucked into the pockets of his grey trousers. He wore a simple white dress shirt, and a grey suit jacket was sitting on the bed to their right. His blonde hair was combed neatly and tied once more into a ponytail at the base of his neck.

“As I always am, little brother.” He turned a piercing gaze on Lucifer, “Has Michael spoken to you?”

Lucifer scowled, turning his head away to glare out the window.

“You’ll have to be more specific than that Rags.”

The blonde angel sighed, following his younger brother’s gaze out the window, studying the landscape and the swell of the city in the distance.

“Regarding Chloe Decker and William Kinley.”

Lucifer blinked, his scowl fading as he turned confused eyes onto the other.

“He told me Dad would…  _ defer  _ judgement on Chloe to me. Though he wanted human justice served no matter what.”

Raguel nodded thoughtfully, gesturing mildly to the bed beside them. Lucifer took note of a shimmer of gold partially hidden by the jacket that he had missed before, a badge of some sort. “Indeed. Kinley will also be receiving human justice. Though Azrael took him for a trip down to Hell. From what I saw of him when she returned him, he will most likely be institutionalized.”

Raguel’s mind turned back to the amusing visage of the priest. Azrael had dropped him off when his three days in Hell had been over, much to the disappointment of the Lilim. Though from what Rae-Rae had said, Remiel was handling the throne just fine, she managed to avoid a demonic uprising by allowing some of the more corrupted and unrepentant souls in Hell to be let loose and hunted through the empty corridors. Leave it to the Angel of the Hunt to resort to hunting souls to appease demons. 

Kinley had been dressed in clean clothes, but the man was stark white with terror and muttering to himself about the Devil and God. He hadn’t responded to Gabriel or Raguel when they came to speak with him and arrest him. He just sat in the chair they placed him in, rocking his old, aging body back and forth. His dull eyes were wide with terror, staring blankly into the void. Gabriel had been kind enough (after a few minutes of silence under Raguel’s deadpan stare) to take Kinley into the precinct to be held in custody.

Raguel was inclined to find out if Raphael could heal his mind just enough that he could stand trial. The human filth deserved to see justice served, but he conceded that rotting away in a padded cell, as the humans put it, would be enough. It equated to the same thing.

William Kinley would never see the sun as a free man ever again.

“It goes a bit beyond that. Gabriel and I are… assisting Michael in regards to the human justice system. Human laws make it so any relatives of yours cannot work on your case. Gabriel and I have adopted human personas, and are investigating as… I believe the term is ‘Feds’. We are, of course, fully aware of who to blame, but we are taking our time leading the humans to the conclusion, as I understand is necessary.”

Lucifer was quietly stunned. He had known that the De— that Chloe would face punishment but he hadn’t expected her to be arrested and held on trial… Lucifer felt like a knife had suddenly just stabbed him in the gut, twisting his insides painfully.

“You’re going to arrest Chloe?” He couldn’t keep the incredulous tone from his words.

Raguel hummed nonplussed, nodding absently. “Yes, most likely tomorrow in the afternoon. Your human friend, Miss Ella, figured out the truth and is helping me to…  _ adjust  _ some of the evidence to conceal proof of your divinity. She’s an incredibly intelligent soul…” He felt his lips twitch up into a fond smile, replaying the hours he had spent at the cafe with Ella, answering her questions but mainly just basking in the brilliance of such a pure soul…

Lucifer just stared at him, his brown eyes blown wide.

“ _ Miss Lopez knows?!” _

Raguel hummed, turning and raising an eyebrow. “Yes, I did say that. She figured it out. Oh, and by the way, the official excuse is that your feathers were from a destroyed couch cushion by the way.”

Lucifer bristled, he could feel his feathers puffing out on his wings from where they were hidden.

_ “A couch cushion?! My feathers are not bloody stuffing!” _

Raguel rolled his eyes, turning his head to conceal the tiny smirk that was threatening to form.

“Are you alright brother? You seem to have difficulty concentrating today. Should I call for Raphael? Do you need to lie down?” He couldn’t contain the light teasing reaching his voice.

Realizing his brother was aiming to get a rise out of him, Lucifer scowled and turned his head away sharply, crossing his arms.

“Enough games Raguel. Get to your point.”

The hint of laughter died from Raguel’s eyes, replaced by steely resolve and Lucifer felt a twinge of regret for ending his brother's light hearted teasing. Raguel rarely indulged himself in his favorite pastime, ruffling a few feathers by teasing his younger siblings. But Lucifer remembered that too late, and his brother slipped back into business mode.

“I’ve spoken with Chloe Decker. Assessed her condition, listened to her side. Determined her guilt.”

Lucifer sucked in a sharp breath, the knife in his gut twisting once more. The words like weapons piercing his heart.

“So you’ve judged her.” He spoke in a whisper.

Raguel turned to face him full, his blue eyes filled with pity.

“Yes.”

Lucifer swallowed, clenching his fists and letting out a heavy sigh.

“And what is she guilty of?”

“Willful ignorance, for the most part. In the form of pride and greed. Your success rate as partners was due to  _ both  _ of you working together. She knew you earned her the results she wanted to further her career along, and began to ignore the facts she didn’t want to accept, in order to preserve her ambition. It became less about you as a competent partner and more a useful deranged man.” Raguel sighed deeply, taking a breath. He didn’t want to hurt his brother further but… he needed to know. He continued on, his heart aching for the pain he could see being renewed in his brother’s eyes.

“Your results as partners became her results alone. When the truth you had been telling her was forced down her throat to accept, she continued to use the willful ignorance habits she’d developed to focus only on the bad, the evil as it was presented to her. That is what’s holding her back from accepting her accountability in her actions. Even now, she is willfully choosing to ignore any good you may have done, any selfless act you have performed.”

Lucifer looked away, turning his back to his brother and gazing out across the sky, his soul reaching out for the stars he could see in the distance, hearing only the faintest melody of their song. He allowed that small bit to ease his heart, while his raging soul sought out the relief of his twin. He heard his twin’s voice echo through his mind, concern and cold anger in every word.

_ ‘Sammy? What’s wrong brother? Do you need me to punch Rags?’ _

Lucifer snorted, closing his eyes and breathing deeply, allowing his brother’s essence to cool the raging inferno of his pain and anger.

_ ‘No, but I need to speak with you later… it’s just news concerning… concerning  _ **_her._ ** _ ’ _

He felt the disapproval radiate into his mind, but his twin said nothing else and their link faded a bit more into the background of their thoughts.

Raguel studied him carefully, guessing accurately what was happening. When he saw his younger brother open his eyes and begin to turn to him, he finished softly.

“I know Father is letting you decide her punishment, and I have no desire to overstep my bounds with you Samael, I have an idea for part of her punishment. One to be enacted after human justice, but during her mortal lifespan.”

Lucifer studied his brother carefully. Even when they had worked together after Eden but before his Rebellion, when humans had first had  _ need  _ for Justice and Punishment, Raguel had only once offered his opinion on a punishment. That had led to the infamous line humans used to this day.

An eye for an eye.

He nodded once, still unable to speak. His older brother gave a small smile in return, but there was no warmth in it.

“We will need to speak with Father about it, if you decide to use it. You never lied to her, yet she did not accept the truth from you. She accepted lies from another’s lips and took them as the truth. In this, her crime should be her punishment.”

Lucifer closed his eyes and bowed his head as the breath escaped his lungs. It was a punishment heralding back to the days their Father had been more active. When mortals had incurred the wrath of God and he let loose, rather than stifling his wrath.

“You mean to ask Father to curse like he did Kassandra.”

Raguel nodded, his eyes hard and flinty.

“During her mortal lifetime, yes. It’s no less than she did with you, and with William Kinley.”

Lucifer scowled, his eyes opening and he glared fiercely at his brother.

“That would be an encroachment onto Free Will Raguel.”

Raguel snorted, turning his head away as his eyes grew hard like steel.

“It is not, and you know it. Kassandra was able to express herself in all other aspects. It was only when asked directly about a situation the curse activated, and those listening  _ could _ fight the curse if they believed hard enough.”

Lucifer turned eyes full of flames on his brother, his voice low and deadly.

“And what if she sees a murder occur, and cannot tell the police the truth because they don’t believe her? It would be the escaped killer who benefited and escaped justice then!”

Raguel rolled his eyes, crossing his arms in front of his chest and staring down Lucifer like he was a misbehaving toddler.

“Father is more than capable of putting into place clear rules. You can figure out the terms to when the curse would activate yourself. She only ever thought you lied to her when you tried to explain personal matters correct? Then make  _ that  _ the term upon which the curse is based. I gave you a  _ suggestion  _ brother. Do not come back at me like a child throwing a tantrum because I haven’t worked out the details. That’s  _ your  _ specialty.”

Lucifer stopped, his mouth open to retort and he quickly swallowed it, glaring sulkily at his brother. He… may have a point there. The bastard.

“So what? A curse to never be able to be believed when trying to speak about personal matters?” The thought… did merit some thinking. Lucifer was a fan of the punishment fitting the crime and in this case, his brother was correct.

Lucifer had been honest to a fault, and Chloe had only ever accused him of lying and being delusional. 

Raguel nodded, glad to see he’d finally gotten through to his brother.

“Good. Now my final point—”

Lucifer groaned and threw his hands up into the air.

“Are you serious?! What else could you possibly have to say?!”

Raguel narrowed his eyes, glaring at his little brother annoyed.

“... You will be appearing in the court as a witness. I’ve already begun working on the paperwork to get Raphi an identity as a doctor with a private firm. She will be your ‘personal physician’ who oversaw your treatment in an undisclosed location. Along with Gabriel. Do me a favor and get them set up with phones and other human things.”

Lucifer’s jaw dropped, staring at his brother in disbelief.

“Your bloody serious aren’t you?”

Raguel gave him a deadpan stare, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, and I’m aware how you work. What would you like in return?”

Lucifer frowned, tilting his head to one side as the gears turned.

“... I want you to ensure that Chloe Decker receives the best lawyer in the state of California. I want her defended well. I know… I know she isn’t going to get away with this, but I don’t want her spending the rest of her life in a jail cell. The inmates in human prisons target former cops like her. I don’t want her there longer than necessary.”

Raguel frowned, but nodded reluctantly.

“Fine. I’ll make it happen.”

Lucifer smiled, but it was without any joy of light.

“Then you’ve made a deal with the devil. Welcome to the club.”

Raguel rolled his eyes, passing his brother on his way to the door.

“No, I’ve made a deal with my annoying little brother.” He ruffled Lucifer’s hair as he passed, proving his point and earning him a death glare and disgruntled muttering.

Lucifer watched as Raguel left, his hands clenching and unclenching into fists as he stared blankly ahead, trying to sift through everything that had been thrown at him. He barely noticed when Michael slipped inside the room, taking a seat on the bed and watching him silently.

When he finally turned to Michael, his eyes were tired.

“I need to see her. I can’t… I can’t make any decisions without seeing her.”

Michael’s gaze hardened but he nodded decisively.

“I’ll be with you.”

Lucifer gave a small, strained smile. He moved over and flopped onto the bed beside Michael, their knees touching and feet hanging off the edge of the bed.

“Thank you Mi…”

Michael snorted and poked his ribs with a finger.

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

They lapsed into silence, Michael sitting at the edge of the bed and Lucifer laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. They stayed there in companionable silence. Lucifer’s thoughts ran wild, trying to comprehend the last few days' events, struggling to come to terms with Chloe’s betrayal and with his Father seemingly breaking their eons old silence. Kind of. He hadn’t heard from his old man, but sending his siblings to  _ help  _ him was pretty blatant.

Lucifer didn’t know what to make of it all. He resolved to speak with Linda soon.

He needed a session badly.

*~*~*~*

Linda laughed loudly as she stumbled into Maze, the demoness reacting quickly and wrapping an arm around the therapists’ shoulders, a wicked smirk dancing across her lips. Her dark eyes were lit with her amusement as they settled again at the bar, their drinks halfway gone and another man sent stumbling off with his tail between his legs after verbal evisceration.

She didn’t have the chance to  _ actually  _ eviscerate someone, so verbally would have to satisfy the demon for now.

Linda snorted shook her head as she settled back into her seat.

“You don’t have to send all of them off! I thought wearing something slutty was supposed to draw them in! Now you’re pushing them away!”

Maze grinned, unrepentant as she took a large gulp of her cocktail, eyeing Linda’s speculatively and trying to figure out why the woman wasn’t drunk yet after two drinks.

“Maybe, but those ones were too lame, you need to wait for the really attractive ones. Or the really kinky ones.”

Linda laughed again before sighing, her smile dimming as she stared at her drink. This was nice. It was normal and relaxing and she really needed this.

Maze studied her friend intently, pursing her lips and setting her drink down with a definitive clink of the glass hitting the table.

“Alright spill. I don’t do the whole emotions things, but somethings bothering you.”

Linda started and sent her friend a sheepish look, embarrassed at being caught so easily. “Is it that obvious?”

The dry blower sent her way encouraged her to not drag this out longer than necessary. Maze was a good friend, but sorely hated reaching the ‘emotional bullshit’ moments of their friendship.

Linda sighed and stared into her drink before turning to Maze and looking up at her with wide, tearful eyes.

“I’m pregnant.”

Maze choked on her drink, spitting it back into her cup.

“You’re WHAT?!”

Linda could only nod, wringing her hands together and the tears became more pronounced in her eyes.

“And it’s… it’s Amenadiel’s, I haven’t been with anyone else but I don’t know how this happened and Maze I’m pregnant with an  _ angel baby and what if the wings rip me open?!  _ What if it can’t be born because of the wings o-or what if we get hauled off to Area 51!”

Maze just stared at her before taking a sniff of Linda’s cocktail. So that’s what had sent her off. Linda’s was virgin. Which would make sense. Linda was pregnant.

“Do you want me to kill him? Amenadiel I mean?”

Linda let out a watery laugh and sipped some more of her virgin cocktail. It was nice pretending she could still drink.

“N-no it should be fine but I haven’t told anyone else yet. But it was eating me up inside and I needed to tell someone. I’m about two months along.”

And there it was. That warm fuzzy feeling Maze sometimes got in her chest when Linda would do something nice, like show her how important the demon was to her. She was starting to recognize it as happiness.

And she could see how unsettled Linda was, and despite the fact that this was way deep into weird emotional territory but… Linda needed her.

Maze sighed and smiled just a bit, wrapping her arms around her friends shoulders, resting her chin on top of Linda’s head.

“You’re gonna be an awesome mom. Way better than mine at least. And this kid is gonna have the Devil as an uncle and protector, and Amenadiel isn’t too bad when he gets his head out of his ass. Not to mention me. We’re tribe.” She smirked at looked down at Linda’s still flat belly, her grin widening wickedly. “And when they get old enough I’ll start teaching them how to use knives properly and train them in combat. They’ll be one bad ass little angel baby.”

Linda snorted and her shoulders shook with her laughter, she darted forward to hug Maze again tightly.

“Thanks Maze. For now, I just want to keep this quiet until things with Chloe settle down. I was thinking of speaking to her… but now I just want to focus on helping Lucifer through this, and finding out a way to tell Amanediel. I mean, we didn’t even know he could have kids!”

Maze grinned and ordered another round of drinks, turning her dark eyes onto the crowd of writhing bodies on the dance floor.

“Well, let’s forget about them for a while. Tonight is girls’ night, and you need to have some fun before you can’t grind on anyone properly.” Maze downed her drink and dragged Linda onto the dance floor, pushing her way into the center of the mass of bodies and grabbing two attractive guys for them to dance with.

Linda grinned at her and let herself get lost in the moment, shoving all her fears and doubts into the back of her mind. Tonight was for her. She would have fun dancing the night away and forget her troubles, if only for the evening.

Besides, with Maze next to her, she didn’t have anything to worry about. Everything would work out in the end.

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!
> 
> I’ve been working on this chapter for a few days now, and it’s been rewritten quite a bit as I took pieces apart and decided to move them to later chapters. It’s also been a bit disjointed as I’ve been helping my granny recover from shoulder surgery, so I’ve been stealing time to write when I’m not helping her.
> 
> Yay for Linda! I’ve decided to push back her confrontation, if she still goes through with it ever, to a later date. Chloe is being bombarded by a lot of celestials right now, so I think I’m going to save it for later.
> 
> As always, I hope you guys enjoy!


	16. It Was Good

On Monday morning, Chloe was sitting at her counter with a steaming mug of coffee in her hands, her eyes red rimmed as she stared blankly at the wall across from her. Her mind was abuzz from the conversation she’d had with Raguel… she couldn’t get his words out of her head.  _ A Fall to rival Lucifer’s.  _ What did that even  _ mean? _ She scrubbed at her eyes, hating the dryness of her eyes. 

There was the rush of wind that rustled the papers, and Chloe closed her eyes, feeling hysterical laughter bubble up inside her. She was becoming too familiar with the sound. She stood slowly, setting her cup down with trembling hands and began to slowly turn, mentally preparing herself to face the Lucifer-Look-A-Like. Michael. The Sword of God. God’s main avenging angel if her research was right.

“P-please I don’t want to do this today Micha—” her breath left her in a rush when she turned fully to face her guest.

Because Michael wasn’t standing in her living room alone. 

Michael is dressed more casually this time, wearing black slacks with an icy blue dress shirt tucked into his pants. His curls are left wild and free and his gaze is cold and piercing. But next to him…  _ he’s _ wearing his usual three piece suit, his pocket square a deep purple, matching his hidden vest and she wants to weep all over again when she finally brings her gaze up to meet his.

The raw pain in his eyes nearly brings her to her knees.

_ “Lucifer…” _

The Fallen Angel stands there, watching her wearily. His dark eyes track her movements but he doesn’t speak. Lucifer, who is always so loquacious, is silent. That is more unnerving than the intense glare she’s being subjected to by his twin. Lucifer just watches her silently, tracking her every movement. It’s the look of weariness, expecting the next blow and trying to anticipate which direction they’ll have to move to dodge the strike. 

“L-Lucifer I-I—”

But Michael doesn’t give her the chance to speak, stepping forward with an air of menace, his eyes still pinned to her. Chloe lets her gaze switch to the other, more dangerous twin.

And he’s only more dangerous because  _ this  _ one seems to have no regard for her or her relative safety.

A part of her whispers that he might have, if she hadn’t tried to kill the one that cared deeply for her.

“Hello Decker. I told you I’d be back sooner than you’d like. Don’t worry, I won’t be here for long. You will, under  _ no circumstances,  _ address my brother, understood?”

Chloe’s startled blue eyes dart the still silent figure of her part—… of her former partner, and she gives a jerky nod. 

Michael gives a grin that is all teeth, and he looks like a shark, scenting blood in the water.

“Excellent. Take a seat. Where you are will do. You will not be approaching us.”

Lucifer doesn’t move, as still as a statue, while Michael prowls around the furniture like a caged lion. Lucifer’s gaze doesn’t leave Chloe and it unnerves her. Michael’s gaze can barely stand the sight of her for more than a few seconds at a time.

The dichotomy between the twins would be fascinating, if it wasn’t so terrifying for her. She sits slowly, her hands shaking as her gaze darts between the two. Unlike Lucifer, she can’t stand to look at him for too long, it makes her stomach clench with nausea. She feels ready to throw up just being in his presence. And she isn’t sure whether that’s a result of lingering fear or burgeoning guilt.

“This won’t take as long as our last conversation Decker. Not if you answer me correctly.”

Chloe nods again, unable to find her voice.

Michael gives another savage grin, turning to look directly into her eyes. 

“Why?” 

Chloe trembles. She knows this is Michael and not Lucifer asking the question but their voice is the  _ same. _ And Lucifer  _ is  _ standing right in front of her and she has the misfortune of looking at him when Michael throws the question out at her and her throat closes up. Because when she looks at him, and hears that word, it’s  _ Lucifer  _ asking her why. It’s  _ Lucifer  _ standing in front of her after she betrayed him. It’s  _ Lucifer  _ who never lied to her, asking why she lied to him.

“B-because I was afraid!”

Michael scoffs, turning away from her in disgust. And Lucifer, still standing like a statute like he’s made of marble, doesn’t even seem to blink at her answer. He just continues to stare at her. 

Michael draws her attention away from the silent figure, throwing another question at her.

_ “Why?” _

Chloe fumbles, trying to grasp onto her train of thought. This is so similar to speaking to Raguel, but somehow not. The words that came so easily to her then, get tangled somewhere in her chest. With a start she realizes it’s because they don’t seem to  _ fit  _ in this scenario the same way they did before. It feels like somewhere along the line, by telling her side of events, more pieces of the puzzle in her mind begin to fall into place.

“I-I told you why…”

Michael sneers but doesn’t look at her. “Why were you  _ afraid _ ?”

Chloe gapes at him, her eyes glancing back to the silent figure of Lucifer and chokes out, “B-Because h-he’s the Devil. Because he’s supposed to be evil!”

Michael whirls around to face her, placing his hands on the back of the couch and leaning his weight against it, his eyes boring into hers.

“Why was it acceptable to break the laws you swore to defend?”

Chloe stutters, leaning further back into her seat, wishing she could shrink away from the icy glare.

“H-he’s not human th-the laws don’t apply to him!”

Michael keeps looking directly into her eyes and her palms begin to sweat. She rubs them off on her jeans, her trembling fingers clenching onto the material of her pants.

“But the laws apply to  _ you. _ ”

Chloe chokes down a sob, tears welling but for once not falling. For the first time since that fateful night, she doesn’t let the tears fall.

“I-It’s not my fault how was I supposed to know?! I didn’t want to go to Hell for b-being friends with him!!!”

Michael opens his mouth to sneer a response at her, but Lucifer moves for the first time. He brings his hand up to touch his brother's arm gently, only a brush of the fingers, a featherlight touch. But it’s enough. Michael’s jaw snaps shut with an audible click and he lets out a heavy breath through his nose, continuing to glare at Chloe.

Chloe brings her tearful gaze to his and flinches when his dark eyes meet hers, he looks so utterly lost and bereaved…

“I have died for you. When Malcolm shot me in the hangar, I bled out on the floor. My dying breath was a plea to my Father to protect you. He revived me and sent me after my mum in return. When you were poisoned by that doctor? I had Doctor Linda and Mazikeen help me kill myself, so I could go to Hell and find Carlisle to retrieve your antidote. Did you remember that? When you decided to kill me, did it flash through your mind that I had already died twice? For  _ you?”  _ Lucifer’s words are soft, his gaze holding hers trapped, and she’s unable to look away.

Chloe shakes her head, breathing out a desperate plea. “Pl-please L-Lu—”

Michael growls, a subsonic noise that rattles the glass in the house and Chloe grips her ears as pain rocks through her. She can feel her bones quaking.  **_“Do not address him.”_ **

The noise cuts off abruptly and Chloe is left silent, trembling at the mercy of the two fiercest archangels in Creation.

Lucifer looks deep into her eyes, unwilling to let her go even though his heart cries out for her.

“Did you know that I’ve never killed anybody? I may be the Devil, but I’m also an archangel. I questioned my Father, I broke some of his rules, but not the ones I agreed with. Angels are forbidden from killing humans. But the first life I ever took, was my little brother’s.”

He heaved in a ragged breath, trying to bite back a sob. Chloe’s eyes widen in horror, staring at the man in front of her and she doesn’t  _ want  _ to speak. She doesn’t  _ want  _ to say anything to that.

“He was trying to kill you. And Mum. He had a blade that wiped souls from existence he reserved for mum but for you… Uriel was good at finding loopholes, like I am. His gift was for patterns. The car accident with the dog? That was little Uri. I tried to tell you, tried to warn you, but you refused to listen to the truth. He was going to start a sequence to kill you in three days. He was behind that man holding a rifle on you. I killed my baby brother,  _ to save you. _ ”

Lucifer takes in another ragged breath, but refuses to break down. Chloe’s eyes are swimming with tears, but he’s starting to see her horror fade, replaced by sorrow. It makes him  _ ache _ . All of the things he’d done… the sacrifices he made…

“Marcus Pierce was Cain, son of Adam and Eve from Eden. I tried to tell you that too, but I was starting to realize then that I would never be good enough for you. No matter how often I told you the truth, you would never believe me. After three years of partnership, three years of me  _ never lying _ , and you trusted a stranger's word over mine. Cain was  _ using  _ you, and when he tried to kill you, I broke my Father’s most sacred rule, the one  _ bloody rule  _ that even the  _ devil  _ obeyed.” He can’t contain his own sneer, his dark eyes lighting with hellfire. Chloe jumps, her mouth opening in renewed horror at the reminder of what lies beneath his human facade.

“I killed Cain in self-defense you know. The dagger he wielded was capable of killing me, even without you around. I died twice for you. I killed Cain to protect you. I  _ killed my baby brother for you! To keep you safe! _ And you repaid me by  _ trying to kill me!” _

The heat in the room increased, as Lucifer struggled to contain his growing rage. The fire in his blood seared away the last vestiges of his hesitation. He was still hurt, but his grief was bleeding away rapidly as his ire grew hot.

“I told you the truth, and you  _ chose  _ not to believe me! I always chose to be honest with you Chloe!  _ Always! _ You were the one who chose to remain ignorant!”

Lucifer stops himself, his jaw working as he bit his tongue, forcing down the tirade of curses he wanted to fling at her. When he spoke again, his eyes had cooled back to embers, the hellfire dying from his eyes. 

“Answer me this Chloe… and don’t lie. No… no more lying to me.”

His throat bobs as he tries to force the word out. For the first time he closes his eyes, trying to pull together the last vestiges of his strength. He fortifies the walls around his heart and replaces the dingy armor on his mind, trying to prepare for her answer.

“Why? Why Chloe? I loved you…”

The tears fall silently from her eyes at last and she meets his devastated gaze. She licks her cracked lips and closes her eyes, breathing slowly out. When she looks at him again, and he can see just a flicker of her inner strength that he used to adore.

“Because I loved you too… and I was afraid of what that m-meant for me… Heaven and Hell were suddenly r-real and I didn’t know… I didn’t know…”

Lucifer lets out a watery laugh, finally turning his eyes away from her. He runs a hand through his hair and blindly reaches out for his brother's hand. He only fumbles for a second before his twin is there, offering comfort. Lucifer squeezes so hard that if it were anyone else, their fingers would have broken.

“You could have asked. But I’ll let you know now. Guilt. Guilt over your actions in life is what drags a soul to Hell. Not me, not Dad, not anybody else. There is no ledger or scales. Just you. No one true religion, just good deeds and good hearts. You would never have gone to Hell for being associated with me. I don’t cause sin, I  _ punish  _ it. You once told me I couldn’t be evil, because I recognized and abhorred evil. Did you forget that too?”

He sighs wearily, not bothering to turn around when he hears her breathing hitch.

“I can tell, you know? When I meet someone. Their souls have more splotches of black than white, and there’s a scent of brimstone around them.” 

He pulls out his flask from his jacket and takes a swift sip before tucking it away again, his eyes are sad when he turns to look at her, one last time.

“I hope you live long enough to recover from this Chloe. Because brimstone and sulfur hang around you like a cloud right now and I never wanted that for you…”

They’re gone in a rush of air, two sets of powerful wings carrying away the archangels and Chloe is left stunned in her apartment, staring at where they had stood and unable to speak. She’s still struggling to get her thoughts back together when she hears a knock on her door. She scrubs at her eyes and walks numbly to the door, opening it to find Raguel and Gabriel standing there, along with two uniformed officers she recognizes from the beat cops.

Raguel looks at her evenly, his blue eyes calm as he holds up a pair of handcuffs.

“Chloe Decker? You’re hereby under arrest for the attempted murder of Mr. Lucifer Morningstar.”

Chloe steps out of the apartment willingly, her eyes lowered to the ground. She can’t stand meeting the righteous flower of Gabriel. She can’t stomach the polite and cool gaze of Raguel. She doesn’t even want to think about the disgust that must be on the uni’s faces. She knows what it’s like to be one of them. To watch and finally realize that one of their own had gone rogue. And she comes to the startling conclusion that she’d fought so hard to find evidence of Malcolm’s guilt, she’d been so driven to bring a dirty cop to light. She’d staked her career over it. She’d lost her marriage to her belief to do good. 

When had she forgotten why she became a cop? When had her career and ambition become more important than her morals?

Raguel and Michael had been right. Lucifer wasn’t human, but she was. When had she gone from the one finding the dirty cop, to becoming the dirty cop?

It was a bitter pill to swallow, as she was guided into the back of a police cruiser. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the window of the car. When she opened them again, she watched the city pass by with unseeing eyes. Lucifer’s words kept playing through her mind, and she couldn’t stop  _ hearing  _ him. 

_ I died for you! _

_ I killed my brother to protect you! I broke my Father’s  _ **_one_ ** _ rule that I agreed with! _

Chloe let the tears fall silently, her gaze never wavering from cityscape. Somehow, knowing had finally broken the dam inside of her, and Chloe found she had no tears left to cry for herself. She wept for the love she had rashly destroyed in her ignorance. They said the road to Hell was paved with good intentions. She wondered idly if her intentions had been good, or if her fear had just made them seem good at that moment.

She didn’t know. And frankly, right now she couldn’t care less. Her only thought past the pain and confusion, her only stab of regret, was when she realized how badly her little monkey would take the news. In all of this, Chloe had spouted fear for her and her daughter’s safety.

But she had never thought about how her baby would feel about this. How her little girl would be affected.

Chloe closed her eyes and wept against the window. This time, her tears were for her daughter and the man she had tried to kill. 

She didn’t open her eyes the entire ride, the uni’s keeping dead silent in the front seat.

She didn’t want to hear it anyway.

  
  


*~*~*~*

  
  


Lux was silent. The police had cleaned up the crime scene, once all of the evidence had been gathered. The blood was cleared away, the salt circle vanished, and the rotting food, wine, and glasses all squirreled away somewhere for further testing and blah blah blah. 

The furniture was still in disarray, all pushed to the edges of the room. The piano sat in its usual spot alone in the vastness of the room. A silent testament to the horrors that had happened. The only witness to the betrayal. 

Lucifer stood before his beloved instrument, his fingers stroking the cover of the keys but not lifting it. Michael stood a bit away, letting him readjust and process. 

It was the first time Lucifer had set foot inside his penthouse since that night. Nine days. He’d been gone for nine days.

How could so much change so rapidly in such a minuscule amount of time? He had gone through literal ages with nothing changing him. Such was the gift and curse of immortality. To watch the world change while standing unchanged. They were mountains, valleys, and oceans of character. Unchanging to the eye of humans. The changes they underwent took such a long time that they hardly seemed to have changed at all.

Maybe that was it. Mountains rose and fell over the course of millennia, but earthquakes and landslides changed things rapidly, in the blink of an eye. Maybe that’s what was happening. Maybe he was the mountain and Chloe was the landslide. Or a series of landslides. 

Maybe it was just being so close to living humans, that served as his landslide.

Lucifer let his hand rest on the lid of his baby grand, stroking the sleek wood softly before turning from it in despair and heading to the bar.

The music that was normally inside his heart was silent.

Michael watched him as Lucifer stepped over to the bar. The devil grabbed a bottle of whiskey at random and two glasses, pouring without a word. They drank the first glass in silence, Lucifer’s eyes never leaving the piano. His fingers twitched on his free hand, but no urge to play stirred in him.

Michael put a hand on his shoulder gently, before walking off to the bathroom. Lucifer heard the shower turn on a minute later, and figured his brother would give him time to process alone.

He could still see her, in his mind's eye. He could still picture her standing in front of him, reeking of sulfur and guilt. Then his picture would change, and he would see her sitting across from him, dazed and jittery. Sometimes it was the poison burning through his veins that kept him paralyzed in her living room, other times it was his grief that kept him still and unmoving as he was tortured in his own home.

The Devil. The King of Hell. Tortured in his own  _ bloody  _ home.

Lucifer tossed the rest of his drink back, closing his eyes briefly before pouring himself another drink that he quickly tossed back, his fingers tap tap tapping out in staccato against the granite top.

He whirled around to grab another bottle, and when he spun back to pour this new drink, he found he wasn’t alone anymore.

Across from him, seated at his bar, was an older gentleman. At the moment, he appeared to have salt and pepper hair, with just a hint of a beard growing on his face, his eyes were the shade of rich, tilled soil, such a deep brown they seemed nearly black. But they glowed the way the earth does when it’s warmed by the sun. His skin was golden and tan, his face lined with lines around his eyes from years of laughter. He looked like any other mid to late forties man walking down the streets of LA.

But it was in the silent entrance and the utter lack of power emanating from the figure that gave him away to Lucifer. It didn’t matter what form the man in front of him chose to wear, Lucifer would know the man anywhere. 

His jaw clenched and the bottle was slammed onto the counter with a bit of extra force.

“Hello Dad.”

God looked his son over carefully, his lips pulled into a small frown as he noticed the slight bruising under Lucifer’s eyes from lack of sleep. But his eyes were warm and filled with an endless depth of love.

“Hello Son.”

They sat and observed each other, taking in the others' appearance for the first time in… for the first time since before his Fall. 

Lucifer looked at his Father, trying to summon the rage he had felt for so long. He tried to find the words and curses he had thought over in the endless years he’d been trapped in Hell. He tried to scream and rage and lash out at the cause of all of his pain and grief… and couldn’t.

His shoulders slumped as he poured another drink for himself, and retrieved a fresh glass for his Father. He poured in silence as he seethed at his inability to rip into his father like he had  _ dreamed  _ of doing for so long.

But he just couldn’t. He’d spent so long being angry and now when he had the chance to wield his anger against his Father… he couldn’t.

He’d already spent most of his anger against Chloe…

God looked over his son, sipping on the whiskey in his glass. When he finally broke the silence, Lucifer almost flinched at hearing his voice again. All the times he’d shouted at the sky, screaming at his Father for his silence, he had never truly expected to hear his voice again.

“I am sorry, son.”

Those fours little words were the match thrown onto the gasoline of Lucifer’s slumbering rage. In true fashion, Lucifer exploded.

His glass shattered in his hands and his eyes filled with hellfire as he glared at his Father, finally able to muster all of his hatred and rage.

_ “You’re  _ **_sorry?!_ ** You think saying your bloody  _ sorry  _ is enough to make up for throwing me into  _ Hell for eons?! _ You think  _ sorry  _ is enough to cover all the bloody times I tried to escape only for Amenadiel to chase me down like a  _ rabid dog _ and throw me back in?! You think sorry is good enough for manipulating me? You  _ abandoned me!  _ All I did was question you and you  _ bloody abandoned me like I was trash! _ You don’t get to call me your son! You took away everything!”

Lucifer’s shoulders were vibrating with anger, his hands clenched into fists as his angelic facade melted away, revealing the mottled flesh of his devil face. The angry vibrant crimson skin standing out like a beacon of hatred and pain.

_ “Look at what you did to me!!!” _

God looked at his son, studying the patchwork of scars and charred skin.

“I admit, I made a mistake with your punishment. I was angry with you, but that’s no excuse for my actions. You deserved to be punished for inciting your siblings to war, but I admit, I was too harsh and you suffered longer than you should have.”

Lucifer scoffed, turning and grabbing another glass, pushing the broken glass into the trash bin in one angry sweep of his arm. He poured himself another whiskey and downed it in one go. His eyes were lit with hellfire as he glared at his Father.

“So what, Dad? You thought you could make me a girlfriend and I would forgive you? You sought to manipulate me and take my choice away  _ again _ but this time I’d be  _ grateful?!  _ Well, congratu-bloody-lations Dad! Look how well your  _ Plan _ worked out for me!” Lucifer poured another drink and tossed it back. He tried to hide the tremor in his hands, but his Dad saw. Of course his bloody Dad saw it. Sodding bastard saw everything if he wanted.

God sighed and sipped his glass, staring into the amber depths like so many of his creations did. 

“Omnipotence is a curious thing my son. I turned it off a few centuries ago, when the humans began to multiple much faster than I anticipated. So many threads leading into the future caused me quite the headache. I checked in every other century or so, and I knew you’d be coming to Earth around this time. I created the miracle to give you the opportunity for friendship, without your powers interfering as a barrier.”

Lucifer scowled, staring at his Father with disdain.

“Yes well, apparently you neglected to make her tolerant of what I really am!”

God looked up, the despondency leaving him and his eyes crackled with power as his wrath manifested. 

Outside the sky grew dark and the distant roll of thunder was heard.

“I created her and nothing more! I would not take away her free will, Miracle or not! I have admitted my fault and my apologies, but do not think you’re self above culpability! She made her choices, poor as they were but you made your own mistakes as well!”

Lucifer growled and threw his glass onto the table, uncaring that it shattered from the excessive force.

“I know I made some bloody mistakes Dad! But I’ve been paying for them and for all of humanities since you let them vilify me! I made mistakes with Chloe and I paid for it with my blood  _ in my own home!” _

“Dad? Sammy?” A voice from the doorway snapped both of their gazes to the side. Michael stood there dripping water onto the dark floors, a fluffy white towel wrapped around his hips and another in his hands as he dried his hair. “Can you two just… sit calmly and talk? Or at least not cause a natural disaster?”

God blinked, his anger clearing as he turned to look out the window, noticing for the first time the dark clouds. As he forced his anger away, the clouds themselves also drifted away.

Lucifer snorted and grabbed his third glass, filling it and taking a sip, forcing himself not to drink it all this time. He topped off his fathers and slid his brothers glass over in his direction pointedly. Michael padded over with a sigh, draping his second towel around his neck.

God looked his boys over, taking in their appearances and nodding to himself.

“I am sorry Samael. For dealing too harshly with you. For letting you suffer needlessly. But… you’ve seen what happens when I interfere my son… the miracle is a prime example. Even though my intentions were good, and my involvement minimal, it ended up hurting you more.”

God looked into his glass, shaking his head and sighing deeply. His aged face wrinkled, the furrow of his brow highlighting his regret. Lucifer noted this carefully as he observed his Father. But he didn’t bother looking for signs of deceit. His father could be a manipulative bastard, but he never lied. It was something Lucifer had always prided himself on, and it was a trait he had mimicked from Him in his youth. Keeping the one thing he felt was good about his Dad after the Fall.

“Why didn’t you speak to me when you realized it was a mistake?” Lucifer’s voice was soft, drawing once more on his bond with his twin to ground himself.

God smiled, though it lacked any joy. “Because you weren’t ready. And neither was I. Ending my silence earlier would have only caused you more pain. In all the outcomes I saw, even with this current future, you are in less pain than if I hadn’t created her at all.”

Lucifer frowned, taking another sip as he forced himself to listen to his Father. His time on earth had changed him, there was no doubt about that. Meeting Chloe had allowed him to make more friends. He had Doctor Linda, Ella, surprisingly Dan too. Briefly he’d even made friends with that priest, Father Frank.

That sent another jolt of pain through his heart and he glared once more at his Dad.

“What was the whole deal with Father Frank? You sent a human to me only to kill him the minute I started to like him! He didn’t deserve to die Dad! He was your follower and a surprisingly decent one!”

God chuckled, savoring the whiskey on his tongue as he thought through his answer.

“Father Frank was a good man, a bright soul. I saw his potential when he about to die in that car accident. I knew he could eventually cross paths with you, so I helped him survive that crash. He was brought back years before to be a positive influence on the world. He’s helped many, more than you know. But what he was meant to give the miracle a different view on you. I tried to allow events to happen that would strengthen her, give her something good to turn to when she eventually found out. A chance to see you as my Lightbringer, not my Adversary. Now mind you I put those motions into place before I ever sent Amenadiel down.”

Lucifer’s face crumpled, grief washing over him. “Uriel…”

God sighed sadly, nodding slowly. “Yes… your little brother helped me tweak the patterns. I… I confided in him that I was going to bring you home soon. He didn’t take it well, but he hid his distaste from me. He was angrier than I realized at you, for your actions years ago. I suspect that he began to implement his own patterns to counteract mine. Ones that I didn’t notice at the time. I hadn’t even realized he’d left the Silver City until I heard your soul screaming out in pain. When I looked… it was already too late... even for me… You are not responsible for his death… I am…”

God closed his eyes, the whole in his heart where his little boy was would forever be empty. It would forever cause him pain, that he had failed his children so horribly, that they would feel comfortable in trying to harm one another intentionally.

Lucifer watched his Dad grieve, his own heart aching. He wanted to rub the salt into his father’s wound. He wanted to revel in his Dad’s obvious pain. But an annoying voice that sounded suspiciously like Linda’s chastised him and told him to do the right thing.

So Lucifer filled their glasses once again, taking in Michael’s stoic form to his left, and opened his mouth slowly. His words were halting and reluctant, but he spoke to try and … comfort… his Dad.

“Uri’s choices were his own Dad… what I don’t get is how he was able to choose. You gave humanity free will, not us. Not your perfect little soldiers.”

God laughed wetly, rubbing the few tears from his eyes. “Come now Samael my son, you’re smarter than that. You already know the answer. If you had thought about it, you would have realized it before you even started your rebellion.”

Lucifer scowled, staring into his glass as he tried to work through his Father’s words. “Can’t you be a little bit  _ less  _ cryptic? You know that’s part of your whole bloody issue with us right? You aren’t clear in what you want us to do?”

But Michael was staring at his Father with wide, angry eyes. His mouth hanging open. “Free will… we already had it.” His voice was soft, disbelieving.

Lucifer snorted and shook his head. “No, that was the whole point, his little pet project would receive it but we didn’t.”

God tsked into his glass as he took a sip, shaking his head. “You know that’s not true. If you had no free will, you wouldn’t have been able to defy me and start a rebellion now would you?”

The breath was stolen from Lucifer’s lungs in a rush as this reveleation ripped apart the foundations of his past. The foundations of who he was.

He fought a bloody war against his siblings for something  _ they already had. _

“No, that’s bullshit Dad. I  _ asked you _ for it and you said no.”

God nodded calmly, though there was unfathomable sadness in his eyes.

“I said no, because I could not give you what you already had. But I also could not tell you. It was a discovery that you, and all your siblings would need to realize on your own. I gave you all a purpose, unlike humanity. Their purpose is to exist. You and all your siblings had reasons for being, to help me create the Universe. But Amenadiel tried to take you back to Hell, without word from me. Later, he decided to stay. Began to court a human woman. Uriel chose to defy me, he chose to cause you and your mother pain.” He looked at his son with fondness dancing in his ageless eyes, a minuscule smile tugging at his lips.

“You, my Morning Star, chose to lead a rebellion. You chose to eventually leave Hell and start your own life. You  _ chose  _ this my son, but you still chose serve your purpose and illuminate my Creation. You did it everyday you fought for justice for my humans. You figured it out in practice, without ever realizing it. I asked you and your siblings long ago to love my creations as you loved me, and you  _ have _ .” God reached up and put a hand on Lucifer’s cheek, his thumb stroking the skin gently. Lucifer stared back at his Father in astonishment, unable to form words.

“I’m proud of you, my Lucifer. My Star Kindler. You are, and will remain, the strongest of my creations. In body, and in soul.”

Lucifer let out a choked sob, closing his eyes against the swelling tide of his emotions. Of all the things he had imagined his Father would say to him, of all the grievances he had wanted to hurl at Him, this went beyond even his most benevolent imaginations.

Michael stood off to the side, still dripping wet and only clad in his towel. He looked between his twin and his Father and quietly made his way to Lucifer’s bedroom to change. His brother didn’t need him right now. He needed their Father, and he needed time and space to digest everything.

After some time had passed, though the occupants of the room couldn’t say for sure whether it had been mere minutes or several hours, Father and Son sat down at the bar next to each other once more. They shared their bottle of whiskey and poured for each other. They spoke quietly, with God answering his sons questions patiently. Something he hadn’t done the first time his Morning Star had dared to ask. Though Lucifer still shout out some witty retort or snarky insult, it was the most peaceful conversation they’d shared since before the Fall. 

They sat in the darkened penthouse, sharing drinks and stories, and there was peace between them.

Lucifer looked at his Father carefully over the rim of his glass, pursing his lips. “... Michael and Raguel told me you want to defer judgement to me…”

God nodded quietly, his eyes open and encouraging. He knew his little star had more to say. And after a few quiet minutes, his patience was rewarded.

Lucifer frowned, staring into his glass as he spoke. “Raguel suggested the curse of Kassandra. I’ve… thought about it. I don’t have the power to enforce it though. Curses like that are your domain. But I… would suggest it to start once the trial is over. And I want her lies to be believed and her truths unheard. Nothing like if she witnesses a murder or something, but more… everyday life.”

God nodded pensively, his eyes lost in thought. It was a few moments before he spoke slowly. “It’s a good idea, and I can lay the curse on her once her trial is over. Is this all you want her to suffer? A minor curse and human judgement?” There was something dark in God’s eyes, a latent fury that was not fully spent.

Lucifer sighed and swallowed the last of his drink but didn’t move to refill it.

“Not… not entirely. But it’s the last I want her to suffer in this lifetime. I… have an idea for her afterlife. But I won’t put it into place until her time comes.”

God frowned and followed his sons lead, drinking the last of his whiskey and standing. He put a comforting hand on his son’s shoulder.

“I understand. It will be as you say. But I reserve the right to intervene if I don’t find her punishment harsh enough. I will not permit her into the walls of the Silver City. I doubt she’ll recover from her guilt enough to enter the Gates anyway.”

Lucifer closed his eyes and rubbed his hands over his face, scrubbing at his eyes. “What about just to the Gates then Dad?...” he mumbled out from behind his hands.

God looked at his son with a raised eyebrow, taking a moment to cast his Gaze forward. He stood rooted to the spot as he sifted through the possible futures in milliseconds, settling on the one he thought his son would be referring to. He let out a heavy sigh and squeezed Lucifer’s shoulder again.

“I see… it will be a fitting punishment. And it will appease my wrath. If you go through with that course of action, we could discuss it later in time. Much later.”

Lucifer gave only a brief nod, his eyes distant with remembered pain. His soul cried out for his twin, and Michael was at his side in seconds. They sat beside each other, their arms touching and God watched over them fondly.

He left his sons at the bar, walking towards the balcony to look over the city. He disappeared in the same way he had come. Quietly, and without any hint of his power. The city of angels bustled on beneath the balcony. Two archangels moved to the edge, leaning over the rail and their wings trailed out behind them as their feathers shifted and danced in the breeze. 

God looked on from his throne in the Silver City and smiled. He watched his sons’ and his creation ploughing ever onwards to their future, and He saw that it was Good.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter as well! We get to FINALLY see Lucifer confront Chloe and we get to enjoy another heart wrenching reunion between Father and Son!
> 
> Chloe’s fate is determined, but it will be a long road until we see her finally punishment. Until then, we’ll be moving forward with court proceedings and human law! 
> 
> Possibly more Lucifer Friends giving him hugs! But for now, Michael is hogging his twin. And Michael will fight everyone for time with his brother!


	17. Nobodies Praying for Me

Chloe sat in her jail cell with her head bowed. There were taunts and jeers from the other inmates, threats to wring her neck for being a cop. She ignored them all, sitting on the little cot by the wall with her knees tucked up under her chin and her eyes staring blankly at the sparse blanket in front of her. When they’d gotten to the precinct, Chloe hadn’t dared to look up. They hadn’t put her in the interrogation room, just thrown her straight into one of the empty jail cells, furthest from the other criminals. 

The former detective sat and contemplated everything that had happened, her mind playing over the scene from her house, the grief and confusion that had clouded Lucifer still haunted her. It probably would haunt her for a long time. She didn’t know which was worse, the look in his eyes when he was strung up and tortured in his home, or the look on his face when he stood across from her and ruthlessly ripped away her meager defenses. He’d torn apart her flimsy excuses, forced her to see what she’d been so desperately avoiding since that fateful day when she’d found him standing over Marcus’ body.

Cain’s body. Marcus Pierce was Cain. She’d almost married the father of murder.

Chloe snorted contemptuously to herself. She’d gone from the Father of Lies to the Father of Murder and back again.

The biggest difference seemed to be that only one of those men had earned their moniker. Because there was no doubt in her mind now, that Lucifer Morningstar wasn’t a liar.

It only took her destroying her own life to finally realize it. Maybe that was the whole reason he’d had the name shoved onto him.

He forced people to acknowledge their own carefully hidden truths. She’d seen him drag out the truth from suspects before. She’d seen how people would just open up to him and spill all their dirty secrets. He’d drawn desire and truth from people without effort. It made sense he’d be able to draw out her truth after what she’d done. She could finally understand how some of their perps had felt, standing on the receiving end.

It wasn’t even his weird mojo thing, she finally realized. It was him. Who he was. He may not have understood human emotions manifesting in himself, but he recognized them in others. He’d have to, to punish them properly in Hell after all. 

The revelation left her cold, thinking about her eternal fate. It had been so much easier, when she hadn’t  _ known. _ She’d thought that once she died it would be over. Just… nothingness. Finding out the truth had spurred her on in fear, to understand something she’d never cared about before. She’d run to what, to who, she thought had held the answers. She thought she’d gone to a reliable source.

She never thought about the fact there were churches in LA. Priests and holy people to speak to here. Fuck, she could have pulled Ella aside. The perpetual ray of sunshine and devout Catholic had always been open about her faith, including telling people that the church sometimes got it wrong. If the church was always the ultimate authority and do no evil entity it proclaimed, then the Vatican wouldn’t have a history rife of prostitution and religious persecution.

Like so many other things, Chloe had ignored that niggling sense of doubt that had pointed out the flaws in her logic. When had she allowed her deductive reasoning to turn off outside of work? Better yet, when had she ignored her gut feeling when it was what she listened to exclusively on a case? She’d trusted her gut over a list of pretty facts in Palmetto. Why not with Lucifer? Her partner?

Chloe closed her eyes, sighing deeply. After everything that had happened, she was beginning to look back on the last three years with fresh eyes. The last year in particular had… not been her best. Everything that had happened with Marcus… she could see now how he’d so subtly manipulated her. She had tried telling herself that it was Lucifer’s actions that pushed her away, that she was just done with his antics.

In reality, she had been listening to the offhanded comments from Marcus and… and she had been the one pushing Lucifer away. She was the one driving the wedge between them. Marcus had just handed her the hammer.

She could admit her mistakes to herself in the darkness of her cell.

She wondered idly if this would be her fate in Hell too. Lucifer had once remarked that souls were trapped in their own cells, reliving their worst moments. Would she be stuck in one of those cells? Reliving the night in his penthouse? Would she be sitting on his couch pouring the poison into his wine over and over again? Would she be forced to watch him muffle cries of pain as Kinley ripped him apart with that knife? Would it be worse than reality? 

Chloe gave a shuddering sob as she curled into a ball on her cot. Her legs were cramping and her arms ached from holding herself so tightly, but she couldn’t let go. 

Somehow, she knew that the coming trial and humiliation would be so much easier than anything else her future held.

She didn’t look up when she heard the rattle of her cell door opening. She barely acknowledged the footsteps approaching her cot. The soft click of expensive heels on cement tickled the edges of her awareness, but she could barely find the strength to look up, even when the cot sagged beneath the weight of another body.

She did look up when the mystery visitor spoke to her softly, with an air of confidence and strength.

“Chloe? My name is Abigail Santiago. I’ve been hired as your personal attorney for your trial. I’d like to speak with you about your case.”

Chloe glanced up, studying the poised woman in front of her. She had light caramel skin and dark brown hair that was delicately coiffed and styled to fall over one shoulder. Her eyes were a warm deep chocolate and her ruby red lips were twisted up into a cross between a comforting smile and a confident smirk. She wore a bright red power suit. The blazer lay open, exposing a simple and elegant white blouse, and the skirt had shifted up to just above her knees. Even her three inch heels were bright red. Sitting on the cot in the dark cell, the woman looked like she was completely at ease and in control. Her entire demeanor screamed power and confidence.

As the woman’s words washed over her, Chloe’s mind worked slowly to process them. When the implication hit her full force, her jaw dropped and she looked at the lawyer with wide, confused eyes.

“I-I don’t have a personal lawyer. I can’t afford to pay you.”

The woman, Abigail, smiled wider and put a comforting hand on Chloe’s knee, squeezing tightly.

“I’ve already been paid hon. Don’t worry about it, it’s all been taken care of. Now! About your case. Prosecution is pushing for attempted first degree, but I think we can knock that off the table. At best I can argue for attempted second, and assault with the whole drink fiasco. I need you to walk me through the events, and I need to know whether you plan to plead innocent or guilty.”

Chloe was struck dumb, her heart lurching in her chest hearing the charges. It felt… surreal to hear them applied to her. It was like she was watching this happen from outside her own body, uncomprehending her situation even as the full force of it began to widen the fissures already forming in her heart.

“I… guilty… but I didn’t know what Kinley was planning! I swear I didn’t know he was going to hurt him… maybe deep down I—”

Abigail waved a hand, cutting her off, her voice firm.

“No, no speculation. You didn’t know. Don’t tell me or anyone else otherwise. You. Didn’t. Know. I’ll talk to the DA, rub it in their face you were coerced so they can’t prove intent. I can probably get the torture charge dropped from your case entirely. But you need to be willing to speak against Kinley if it comes to that.”

Chloe nodded numbly, staring at the woman across from her. She still didn’t understand…

“Who hired you?...”

But Abigail only smiled and settled onto the cot more comfortably, removing her hand from Chloe’s knee.

“Sorry dear, part of my contract is confidentiality. Now go ahead and tell me your version of events. I need to know everything, you can start with meeting Kinley.”

Chloe stared for a moment longer, before the words began to trickle from her lips. They came in bursts and stutters, as she spoke slowly about her time in Rome, trying to move past the horror of finding Lucifer over her ex-fiancé’s corpse. Even though Pierce had tried to kill them… kill  _ her. _

And Abigail listened, interrupting constantly to drag out more details, focusing on every little thing, working through the events with a fine tooth comb. And in Chloe’s heart, she felt something shift and move. She felt… grateful. Thankful even. This woman… there was no doubt this was a top tier lawyer. From the air of confidence to her thorough questioning and taking notes on a timeline… this was a woman who meant business.

And that made her chest tighten all the more with pain, because she knew very few people who could afford to pay for a lawyer like this.

And her stomach roiled with nausea thinking that  _ he  _ would still care enough to try and lessen the repercussions of her actions.

Those thoughts filled her with an unexpected strength though. The strength to meet the consequences head on. And to… try to make amends to the man she had loved and betrayed. When they both had time to heal from the past few days. Really, from the past year.

Because hindsight really was 20/20 and she could admit to herself that she had begun her path to betrayal a long time ago…

When the lawyer had left, and Chloe was once more left to her thoughts, she sat on her cot staring into space. She could understand now, how so many perps had felt sitting in their cells. Contemplating the events that had led to their own downfall.

_ “I don’t force anyone to do anything! Humanity needed a scapegoat to blame their own bad choices on, and they all chose me.” Lucifer was pouting beside her in the car, on one of their early cases together. His face was pulled into a pout, his arms crossed in front of his chest. His tall form looked particularly squashed in the passenger seat of her cruiser and she fought a smile at the picture he made. He could never be the Devil, even if all his mad ramblings were true. She highly doubted the Devil would be caught dead pouting like a petulant preteen. _

Chloe snorted at the bittersweet memory. Most of her memories with him were bittersweet nowadays… even before she’d gone to Rome. Before she’d ever seen… his other face. He’d tried so hard to tell her… she remembered him grunting in the darkened conference room, all the blinds closed. She’d been so angry at the time she hadn’t recognized that there was real confusion and hurt in his eyes. He’d touched his face in disbelief and something like agony had crossed his features before he’d scrambled to try and get her to stay, get her to listen to him.

And she’d never believed him.

Chloe hung her head, closing her eyes tightly as she breathed in and out, trying to keep the sobs from consuming her again.

He’d tried so hard…

She bit her lip until it bled, the coppery tang of her own blood flooding her mouth as she tried to stay focused on her sudden resolve. She put her trembling hands together in front of her, closed her eyes, and bowed her head.

And for the first time in her life, Chloe Decker prayed.

  
  


*~*~*~*~*

  
  


California had no shortage of criminals living within its borders. So naturally, there wasn’t a shortage of lawyers to defend said criminals. Los Angeles was a criminal playground all its own. Abigail Santiago was one of the best damned criminal defense lawyers in the city of Los Angeles. She wasn’t in it for the money, and she did want to see justice done. She didn’t defend sexual predators, and she didn’t defend corporate shitheads who abused their employees rights. And she never defended child murderers.

But a woman in a vulnerable emotional state manipulated into something she otherwise would never have done? A star homicide detective falling from grace? 

Oh yea. That was her ideal.

People weren’t good or evil, to Santiago. They made mistakes, just… some more serious than others. But she knew full well that sometimes, the DA was so set on conviction that they turned people into examples. Trying to prove the system isn’t racist? A minority client gets a more lenient sentence and a white guy gets twice the punishment. Well. At least in high profile cases. She knew her clients were guilty of  _ something _ . But weren’t most people? She’d seen good kids get sentenced to life in prison for drug charges, and unrepentant murderers walk free.

She wanted to make sure that  _ just  _ punishment was done.

It’s how she’d gotten such a good reputation in LA. A lawyer willing to go to bat to lower the charges against their clients, but strong enough to stay above the corruption. And she owed her start to a man she’d met once, years ago when she was between jobs after being fired from a well known firm because she’d refused to coach her client, something that was illegal anyway.

She’d felt trapped and despondent, pondering if her high morals were really worth facing homelessness.

Then she’d made a deal with a man who called himself the Devil. She’d brushed it off, unsure about her drunken adventures.

But the next day she’d gotten a cold offer from a firm well known for pro bono cases and well above any reasonable dreams she’d ever had.

All she had to do was a favor at some point in the future.

For a few years she’d never heard from that man again, she hadn’t even known how to contact him to send him a simple ‘thank you’ note. Until she’d been minding her own business in her office preparing for a case for another client, and her secretary ushered in a handsome blonde fellow that insisted they needed to speak immediately. 

Santiago held in a dreamy sigh as she pictured the muscles that Pravda guy must have been hiding under his shirt. His arms had seemed so big underneath his shirt sleeves… like bulging muscles ‘let me squeeze your biceps’ kind of big. Apparently her start up ‘investor’ was his brother, and they were cashing in on that favor.

To defend the woman who helped a mad priest try to kill him.

Damn. It was a good thing those guys were pretty, because the little she heard from Pravda made her sure they were probably too much to deal with.

Damn but his muscles… was their entire family like that? Did they do sibling bonding day at the gym or something? What she’d give to be a fly on the wall when they benched…

Santiago licked her lips and gave herself a light slap, trying to bring her attention back to the files in front of her.

Now she was reviewing the case file and replaying her conversation with her newest client. The woman had made a mistake no doubt, but after listening to Deckers story, she was tempted to call this case pro bono, because… damn.

Your ex-fiancé turns out to be an underground crime boss and tries to kill you, only to be killed by your partner who you’ve been on the fritz with for the past year?

Mental breakdown would be  _ so  _ easy to push. Displacement too, since her ex-fiancé was dead, it would make sense that Decker turned her feelings of betrayal onto her partner. And since the priest approached her and manipulated her during an emotionally vulnerable time, she wasn’t fully responsible for her own actions.

Being cast adrift in a sea of confusion and hurt like that was practically Christmas dinner for priests like Kinley looking to prey on the weak. It made her  _ sick. _

Santiago made another note on her case file, picking up her phone and dialing the DA’s office.

Her grin was predatory when her least favorite lawyer picked up.

“Julian! Long time no see thankfully! Too bad that’s going to change. Listen, the Decker case? You and I need to sit down and chat about that sometime hon. This whole first degree thing just isn’t gonna do it for me doll.”

She could practically see his pudgy face twisting with his anger. He  _ hated  _ her blasé attitude around him, and she hated how he went for the throat with every single defendant no matter the circumstances. Mother locked herself out of the car with baby inside and called the cops right away? Negligence. Kid dealt drugs for the first time because he has a bad group of friends pressuring him into it? Drug trafficking. First offenders received the same treatment as career criminals and it really pissed her the fuck off.

So her grin widened when she heard his obvious distaste and frustration.

“You’re out of your fucking mind Santiago. A cop goes rogue and tries to kill her former partner—”

Abigail was practically purring, like a cat with the cream. “Civilian consultant, not her official partner so you can’t play that game. And if you want to go there, how about the fact her ex-fiancé and ex- _ boss _ , you know, Lieutenant Pierce? Ended up being an actual  _ crime boss _ too. Now, funny how that’s been kept under wraps isn’t it?”

Julian seethed on his end of the phone, snarling into her ear.

“That case is entirely unrelated to this—”

“Oh I beg to differ. Anyway that’s enough chit chat Julian. I’ll see you soon, have your secretary contact mine to set up the meeting. My client is willing to plead guilty to assault and attempted second degree, in return for testifying against Kinley. You can get him on coercion, first degree,  _ and  _ your special circumstance of torture on him. But not on Decker.”

She hung up just as Julian was starting to splutter, his voice rising to a high pitched octave she  _ loved  _ to hear from him.

It meant she’d gotten under his skin especially well this time.

She smirked and set her phone aside, going back to her case file. Her secretary would make sure to schedule the appointment as soon as possible. She’d also make sure to set up a meeting with the courts, to schedule the hearing. With Decker pleading guilty, so long as they were able to make a deal with the DA, Chloe would never have to face a trial. She’d get her hearing, her sentencing, then off to her fate. And the LAPD would be pushing for the DA to agree, because the last thing they needed was another massive scandal getting leaked to the public and shaking up the public’s faith in the police.

So yes, Abigail was feeling confident in her ability to win a better deal for her client, and the ability to make good on her favor.

She leaned back in her chair, pulling out a small snack bag of trail mix from her drawer, chewing slowly as she thought over the facts of her case. If the DA did decide to push through for a trial, she needed to be prepared. So she set to work, Kuching absently with one hand while she took detailed notes and wrote out her thoughts with the other. She poured over her papers, hardly noticing the passage of time as she got lost in her work.

Chloe Decker was in good hands, and she had Lucifer Morningstar to thank for that.

Speaking of hands… Pravda seemed like his hands were big enough to squeeze just enough in all the right places.

Santiago let out a forlorn sigh, shaking her head as she tried to force herself to focus once more, and to try shoving thoughts of the hot blond from her mind.

But those  _ muscles  _ though…

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter has been underway for about a week and a half now, and no matter how I tweak it I can’t seem to find the way I want it right. So I’m giving this to you guys to do what you will.
> 
> On another note, there seems to be a lot of comments focusing on Chloe v. Amenadiel v. Maze as far as punishment goes, with many up in arms about Chloe’s punishment. I’ve tried to respond to each comment as I usually do, but just so everyone can see my thoughts on this, I’ll be posting a snippet in this note. I’ll use bullet points to try to make this concise.
> 
> 1\. Amenadiel lost his wings and his powers. He was punished. Maze nearly lost her human and non human family. She was punished.
> 
> 2\. Human laws don’t apply to Amenadiel and Lucifer. They are literal angels. They LITERALLY are held to a higher power. And human laws change constantly in the span of a few decades let alone MILLENIA. Take the age of consent. Lucifer won’t sleep with anyone who’s a child, but the HUMAN LAW definition of maturity and age of consent has changed drastically just in the past century. Go back a few centuries and Trixie would be fair game at 10 or 11. So no. Angels are above human law.
> 
> 3\. Finally, to be frank this is my story and I really just want to write what comes to my mind and my keyboard. I want everyone to love this and enjoy this, and stick it out to the end to hopefully see my vision fulfilled. But please understand it’s MY creative liberty. Chloe’s punishment is the focus of this story, and possibly even her redemption.
> 
> Anyway sorry for the long rant, it just got overwhelming answering basically the same question or comment with different points. I really do appreciate all the love you guys give, and even people who disagree with Chloe’s fate have offered me invaluable insight into the development of this story.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, though I freely admit it wasn’t one of my best.


	18. Devil Knockin’ At My Door

Linda’s office was, as always, an oasis of calm for the troubled and lost souls who wandered their way to her couch. They brought the tempest of their emotions, the chaos of their confusion, and placed it at her feet to untangle the web that shrouded their lives in darkness. She helped spouses struggling to cope with their partners' affairs, sometimes how they felt about their own torrid affair. She helped survivors overcome their guilt and anger from abusive parents or spouses. She helped wealthy clients, and clients who were middle class. People who dined with stars, and people who survived the slums. 

Linda Martin also helped the Devil. 

Lucifer Morningstar was the largest, most tangled ball of parental neglect, disrupted childhood, trust issues, and so  _ many  _ other issues. He was basically a walking DSM book. Flip to a random page and Lucifer probably had it.

Alright, that might have been a bit of an exaggeration, but it wasn’t entirely  _ in _ accurate either.

He was a troubled and lost soul, just like all of the other souls who found their way to her couch. He was just the first immortal one. And that was so out of her expertise she constantly questioned whether or not she was even  _ capable  _ of helping Lucifer. Did human mental illnesses even  _ apply  _ to celestials? She was leaning towards yes based on her work with Lucifer and Amenadiel.

Did any of her experience prepare her for her current situation? No. Not at all. Not even meeting and speaking with the freaking  _ Goddess  _ let alone being tortured by her still did nothing to prepare her for this. Not to mention this wasn’t even her area of practice but she was the only therapist in the know to even be able to attempt this.

Because Lucifer, Amenadiel, and his Dad were sitting on her couch waiting patiently for their session to begin.

Seriously, what the actual fuck had her life become to give _family_ _therapy_ to _God._

Linda took a shuddering breath and sat back in her chair, resolved to freak out later when she got home and mentally scolding her unborn child for stopping her from drinking. Even if her half-angel baby wasn’t most likely immune to alcohol, she wasn’t going to risk it.

Damn but she wanted something to settle her nerves.

“Alright, before we begin I’d like to… clarify some ground rules and such.”

God, actually freakin’  _ God  _ gave her a patient smile.

“You May call my Elywon. It is one of my many names on Earth and one you aren’t familiar with. It will do as a first name I suppose. No need to defer to me, I know you aren’t comfortable with that, no ‘My Lord’ or ‘Sir’s’ necessary my dear. No eternal damnation if you say something I don’t like. Oh, and no, I won’t smite you for saying your piece. I believe that is the point of this whole thing after all. Did I miss anything?” Again he gave her that patient, fathomless smile and Linda struggled to pull her frazzled brain back together to form a coherent response to her questions being answered… before she voiced them.

Lucifer rolled his eyes and looked at his Father, lips twisted into a bitter line.

“Seriously Dad? You could let Dr. Linda actually speak and not so your whole omnipotence thing, it makes humans uncomfortable.”

God, Elywon, frowned and turned his gaze to his son, confusion and a hint of annoyance flickering across his face. “I’m merely trying to be helpful, my son.” 

Lucifer scowled at him. “This isn’t going to work if you tell her everything she’s going to say!”

Elywon scowled at his son, his annoyance growing. “Son, watch how you speak to me—”

Lucifer scoffed, crossing his arms as Amenadiel looked on, caught between his brother and his father. “Or what? Your nice act will disappear and you’ll cast me out again?!”

Amenadiel sucked in a breath as their father’s face grew stormy. “Luci, please—”

Linda jumped in, looking between the celestials in barely suppressed anxiety. “Lucifer has a point. I can’t do my job and help you all if I’m being spoken for. Is there anyway for you to turn your… omnipotence down a bit? Just for our sessions? I promise to do my best to help.”

Elywon looked at her, the thunderclouds clearing from across his face as his features relaxed once more. “Very well dear. I can… tone it down some.” Amenadiel breathed a sigh of relief while Lucifer doubled down, crossing his arms and looking away pensively. Linda sighed mentally, already knowing that his normal session would be filled with some ranting and pacing already.

Linda cleared her throat, readying her notepad and relaxing back into her chair. Just three people who need her help. Family issues. Just a divorcee father and two of his kids. Right. Just another family.

“Good, thank you, uh Elywon… right so why don’t we start with what’s brought you all in today? Lucifer?”

Her main patient scowled and sat back in the chair, looking for the most part, like a sulking teenager. His tone was practically dripping with sarcasm. “Well let’s see, Dear old Dad decided to meddle in my life,  _ as always,  _ and now Chloe is facing jail time for poisoning me just because Dad’s great plan didn’t work!”

Elywon looked at his son sharply, his fists clenched on top of his lap. “My  _ plan  _ is still being fulfilled in other ways. It was an  _ idea  _ outside of my plan to try and secure your happiness!”

Lucifer turned in his seat, to face his father, practically radiating violence and menace. “My  _ happiness?!  _ You created her to love me and now that she doesn’t she’s going to have to pay the price!”

Elywon shook his head as his features darkened again. “I have told you before, I only created a  _ chance,  _ her actions are her own and deserving of the consequences she will reap Sama—”

“That’s not my  _ name! My name is Lucifer!” _ The fallen angel interrupted, his eyes sparkling with hellfire.

Elywon straightened his back, nearly towering over his sons despite them all sitting.

“That is your  _ title,  _ and I will use the name  _ I gave you _ !”

Linda sat forward, trying to keep her best therapist voice and face even as her heart pounded against her ribs with the power saturating the air. It made her hands tremble and her stomach churn to be in the presence of the two celestials on the brink of a fight.

“Alright, let’s focus on what we’ve brought up. Elywon… can you tell us why you created Chloe?”

Elywon sighed and sat back, lashing iron chains around his temper to reign it in before he destroyed this half of the continent in rage. “I realized I had been too harsh on my son and I wanted to offer an olive branch, so to speak. A human whom he could form a relationship  _ of any kind  _ with, without his abilities making it difficult. That’s  _ all  _ I did.”

Linda nodded, taking a deep breath as her nerves settled with the power fading away. “Right, and why did you create Chloe instead of talking to Lucifer?”

Elywon blinked, and sat back in his chair as he was caught off guard. “Well… I try not to interfere directly too much anymore. I’m trying to let my children make their own choices.”

Lucifer scoffed beside him and shook his head, looking away in anger.

Linda flagged another topic for them to discuss in private. She focused back on Elywon, frowning slightly. “And did you tell your children this or prepare them to make decisions without you?”

God tilted his head to the side, in the same puzzled manor that his sons did. “If I gave them instructions, it wouldn’t be their own choice.”

Linda had to take a second to stop herself from ripping her hair out. Just another father. Just another family. Who knew even God needed directions for parenting.

“There’s a difference between instruction as orders, and instruction as teaching. Children rely on their parents for their needs, and from what I understand, angels are no different. If your children have been taught to obey, releasing them into the wild without the tools to survive, so to speak, is a completely different thing.”

Amenadiel spoke up, for the first time this session. His eyes were downcast and his voice hesitant, but he tried to look at his father as he spoke. “I thought I knew what you wanted me to do. You… never said anything otherwise. I kept hurting Luci and sending him back to Hell over and over. I even brought back Malcolm, a damned soul, and he… he wrought havoc during his time back.”

God looked at his Firstborn, his eyes pained and filled with disappointment. Amenadiel looked away, hugging a pillow to his chest. “I am aware. You realized your actions weren’t just though, you lost your wings because of it. You didn’t need my interference. I would have only made the situation worse. You needed to learn about self actualization, and the consequences of your arrogance. You realized your actions were shameful on your own.”

Amenadiel swallowed, looking away as remembered shame filled him. He had known but… to hear his father say the words brought everything to the forefront again. It renewed his shame and guilt with fresh vigor.

Lucifer hissed, his eyes dark with anger. “Chloe and her daughter were nearly killed because of that madman! I died and you had to bring me back!” 

Elywon looked between his sons, his expression filled with sorrow. “It was regrettable what happened, but you both needed to learn that your  _ choices  _ have consequences.”

Linda cleared her throat, bringing their attention back to her. She met Elywon’s eyes and gave a small, understanding smile. Just another family. Lucifer was just lashing out in anger because of his still raw grief. “You can still teach them lessons, without accomplishing their lessons for them. But I think there’s an underlying issue. Lucifer, what are you really upset about?”

Lucifer studied Linda’s face carefully, his dark eyes haunted with remembered pain. “...You threw me out Dad… you let them vilify me, you let me  _ burn. _ I was alone in Hell for  _ eons  _ and you… you never answered me when I...you never answered.” He looked away, his cheeks flushed red with embarrassment, like he hadn’t meant to sound so wounded…

God looked upon his Morning Star and his heart ached, he reached out hesitantly to rest a hand upon his cheek. “I acted in anger, and I hurt you. I am so sorry my Star…I know that there’s little I can say to make you believe me, but I hope in time, you can forgive me. You don’t ever have to go back. This, I swear to you my son.”

Linda smiled when she saw Lucifer’s shoulders slump, and Amenadiel trying to suppress a tiny smile even as his eyes were still found with profound sorrow and shame. It was a good start. She glanced at the clock on the walk and nodded to herself, sitting back in her chair and clearing her throat again.

“I think, we’ve made some wonderful progress today. I would like for all of you to meet me individually, as well as another session like today. Lucifer, we can keep our normal time.”

The three celestials nodded, each a bit drained and subdued from the emotional rollercoaster they’d gone on. As they all stood and murmured their thanks and partings, Elywon lingered behind, putting a hand on her shoulder and smiling kindly. Linda felt the breath leave her as her mind tried to keep calm.

“Thank you, Linda Martin. You have been… very insightful. I understand why my son finds this helpful.” He gave her another amicable pat on the shoulder before he too, turned to leave.

  
  


Once the door was shut, she waited for the three Celestials to wander far enough away to not hear her, she let out a heavy sigh. Linda sat down heavily in her chair, setting her blank notebook aside and putting a hand on her tummy, looking down at her still flat belly. “When you’re born, I’m going to drink the  _ entire  _ liquor cabinet baby…”

*~*~*~*~*

The funny thing about the past, is that you never realize just how high you’ve been until the present shoves it into your face how far you’ve fallen.

When the universe was young and Lucifer had been a freshly formed fledgling, he had stared into the vast emptiness of the blank canvas his Parents had created, and he wondered about the great Creation his Father kept mentioning. Father and Mother had been loving and enthusiastic about their impending works. His older siblings had encouraged him to be patient, to wait for his time to help their Parents. His younger siblings had bemoaned their fate of more waiting.

When Father had smiled at he and Mi, urging them into the emptiness above their home. With hesitation he and his twin had flown high into the unknown. They had worked in tandem effortlessly, twining together to fulfill their Father’s vision. Time had yet to be invented, so how long they labored, none would ever remember. The twins had just labored until they grew wary, rested, and labored again. 

When they had finished, the pride and love and appreciation in their Fathers' faces had filled them both to the brim with love and joy. It had been his happiest memory, one he kept tucked into his heart even after his descent into Hell.

Now, sitting in his home at the center of his Father’s Creation, Lucifer pulled the memory from his heart in an effort to remind him that he had known joy and love in abundance and lost it before. He had survived Falling through countless dimensions and into Hell. He had drowned in the Lake of Fire, choking on sulfur and liquid fire. He’d had his own element turned against him. His comfort had turned to agony. He had lived through losing everything.

He would live through losing her.

Lucifer glowered into the depths of his whiskey decanter, brow furrowed into deep ridges.

Alcohol would certainly help ease the pain. At least he hoped it would. No doubt Doctor Linda would have a different opinion. But, well. 

Today, he didn’t really care.

Taking a sip from his glass, he ambled over to his piano, aware of his twin's eyes on him from somewhere in the penthouse. The lazy lout was content to lounge around the penthouse, staying nearby but giving Lucifer the illusion of privacy. Normally the fallen angel would make a snarky comment about not needing a babysitter. But if he was honest with himself, completely honest, he didn’t mind it. He wasn’t… eager to be alone.

So he forced himself to accept his twin brother hovering in the background for now, and sat at his piano stroking the keys. The notes floated through the air, soft and sweet. He sat down on the piano bench, helpless to resist the temptation of the ivory. As he settled before his own altar, the notes began to crawl from the instrument into the freedom of the air. The song was indescribable. In both parts sorrowful as it was hopeful. The gentle crescendos and plunging falls filled the solemn silence of the loft.

Lucifer crafted the piece in the same loving manner as he crafted his stars. The notes were wrung from the piano with ease. They burst forth in multitudes as the song progressed, singular at first before being joined by deep abiding chords and soulful harmonies. They lingered in the air, clinging to the ears of any who would listen before dying, fading into nothing as more notes rose to replace them. Over and over the ebb and flow of the music carried on as the sun rose to its zenith, then passed on as the moon climbed high to replace her. 

Stil, Lucifer played on.

Michael peered around the corner, poking his head out from his room as the music drew him like a moth to flame. His heart was heavy as he watched his twin weep over the piano, pouring himself into his music so wholly, so completely, it was difficult to watch because of the raw emotion being poured out of the devil into his instrument. 

The swell of the music grew to a soaring peak and fell into nothingness with a final discordant clamor as Lucifer’s hands fell to his knees and his back bent, hunching his forehead as his forehead slammed down onto the keys. His shoulders shook as he silently wept as the last vestiges of his mournful melody faded into obscurity.

He wept for the loss of his friend. He wept for the shattered remnants of his trust. He wept for the pain that lingered in his heart. 

He wept because he loved her still.

Lucifer could rage, he could curse her name and deliver her into the arms of human justice because he  _ believed  _ in justice. He could step back and administer punishment onto her because it was in his nature. He could even admit how angry he was with her, because Lucifer didn’t lie, not even to himself.

And because he didn’t lie to himself he could admit in the privacy of his own mind, that Chloe Decker still held his mutilated monstrous heart in her hands. She most likely always would. She was the first woman he had ever truly come to love. 

And that was the kicker, wasn’t it? There had been an undeniable bond between the two of them. Even when he had married Candy and tried to bury it. Even when Cain stood by her side and offered her what she thought ask a safe marriage. Even when they both raged against their bond and hid behind their mountain of excuses, they had loved each other.

That didn’t make it healthy. 

Lucifer had been driven by his love to murder his own brother. He’d been driven by love and rage to murder Cain. He’d been driven by love into a twisted knotted version of himself. And Chloe had been no worse for wear than he. 

They had shifted from a partnership into codependency. Unable to truly function without the other, driven to more and more unstable and unhealthy territory with none the wiser. Fault lay at both of their feet and this, too, was something Lucifer wept for.

He could have shown her his wings. He could have swallowed his thrice be-damned pride and accepted that side of himself. He could have heeded Amenadiel sooner, accepted his wings had nothing to do with his Dad and everything to do with himself. He could have shown her that the Devil was the King of Hell, but still an angel in his core.

Why had he forgotten that? Why had he been so opposed to his own nature that he defied his own logic? He may have no longer been ‘of God’, but he was still a celestial being. His wings wouldn’t have been as much of a nasty shock to her as his mutilated flesh. Maybe he would still have her if he had swallowed his pride.

But that had ever been his downfall, hadn’t it?

The only difference this time around, was that the sensation of Falling was only in his mind.

And so Lucifer wept over the ivory keys of his beloved piano, mourning the mistakes that had led him to his second Fall under the watchful eyes of his twin brother. 

He wept for the love who sat behind bars.

The love he was never going to have in his arms.

He wept.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG GUYS! I’m so sorry it’s taken me forever to update, this chapter has been sitting half finished for the past two weeks and I’ve just been struggling to find the time and energy to finish it. I’ve been trying to find time to sit down once a week to work on it, each time determined to finish but something came up each time. Hopefully the next chapter won’t take too long! I really didn’t mean to go this long without an update!


	19. No Rest For The Wicked

They say the Lord works in mysterious ways. Whoever ‘they’ are anyway, they aren’t  _ entirely _ wrong. That doesn’t mean the ubiquitous ‘they’ were right in all things either.

Why do bad things happen to good people? God has a plan. Why do natural disasters destroy lives and homes? God has a plan or God is punishing sinners. Why do children die in agony and murderers walk free? God works in mysterious ways.

The truth is, God has nothing to do with any of  _ that. _

_ That  _ is the result of other humans making poor decisions to harm others.  _ That  _ is what happens when certain criteria for those natural disasters are met, and humans don’t take adequate measures to protect themselves.  _ That  _ is what happens in a flawed world. None of  _ that  _ is God working in mysterious ways.

Sure when humanity was younger, God intervened more often. But the plagues and floods had been his wife’s thing. He was more of a commandment kind of God. Not that anyone listened to those blasted things… or even the worst one! Changing what He said to suit their own prejudices! 

Well maybe part of that was translation error but still! Nobody had bothered to correct it! Honestly, as if he cared about whether his Creations slept with each other irregardless of gender. He had  _ said  _ not to sleep with  _ children _ . But of course his creations switched the words around, and for centuries they had violated children and condemned grown men and women because of who they loved. 

Regardless, his meddling had slowed to a stop over time, after he saw how little his interventions stuck over time. Sure for a few decades or even a century, humans would learn their lesson and settle down again, but then the older ones who had felt his wrath died and their children and grandchildren relegated history into myth. It was in part due to their short life spans, as well as his gift of free will that they could chose to ignore him.

Honestly, when he came up with it, he didn’t think free will would be this much of a nuisance.

To be quite frank, God had other things to do than constantly babysit his pet project. There were quite a few other planets and galaxies to watch over after all. Especially when humanity suddenly started to multiple beyond what he had originally intended.

Seriously, 7  _ billion  _ humans on his one tiny water planet. Keying into their constant prayers gave him a headache. It was yet another reason he tended to turn his attention away from the planet and only check in every few decades or so. One century they’re all in what’s now called Africa living in relative peace, the next they’re enslaving their brothers from the  _ cradle  _ of humanity calling them  _ lesser. _

Enslaving their fellow brethren because their skin color is different. Massacring each other for worshipping Him in a different way. Looking down on their fellows for being ‘savages’ because they don’t speak the same language.

When did ‘Thou shalt not kill’ become ‘thou shalt not kill unless they look different from you’? When did ‘Thou shalt not judge’ become ‘Thou shalt not judge except for everyone who pisses you off’?

When did He go from a loving Father in Heaven to the Lord who protects systematic abusers?

When did not worshipping Him come to be a death sentence? When did women, whom he had given a tiny bit of the power of Creation, become brood mares and lesser to their male counterparts? For His own sake, he had a wife! Well, ex-wife now, but he would never treat Her so disrespectfully unless he wanted her to rip him a new one! Figuratively at least, but She had always been a little spitfire, and ever intent on finding new ways to torment Him when She was angry.

God gave a wistful sigh, ignoring the confused look of the humans around him. He did miss Her every once in a while. Perhaps he would find Her new Universe. He hadn’t spoken to Her in several millennia, and he was for the most part not angry at Her anymore for trying to start a war in Heaven and usurp him. And she had been right about him not spending enough time with their children.

Yes, maybe he would find Her and speak with her about everything that had happened. Catch up for old times sake, according to humans.

When did everything go so terribly wrong?

Maybe he should have stopped interfering after the ten commandments. He could have left it at that. Ten simple rules that  _ still  _ humanity struggled not to break.

Oh but humanity was singularly intriguing. No matter how many times they irritated him, he still loved them. And despite what his children thought, ( *cough* Lucifer *cough cough*) God did  _ not  _ love his Creation more than his own Children. His creation just needed more tending than his Children did.

Although… maybe he  _ had  _ neglected his children a bit in favor of his humans…

Either way, God worked in mysterious ways, just not in the ‘way’ humans often thought.

Sometimes, his ways were even a mystery to himself.

Which, he supposed, brought him to where he was now. He had always been fairly forgiving, more so as eons passed and he watched his Children and Creation grow up. As a being beyond time and age, the only thing that made him feel old was the suffering of his children.

Lately, he had been feeling the press of the last few eons weighing him down on his proverbial shoulders.

Grateful for the body he had created for himself, God shook himself from his thoughts and focused on the present. It was so easy for him to get dragged into his own Thought. He offered a kind smile to the guards, straightening the clothes he had materialized for himself, clutching that silly book under his arm, and signed his ‘name’ into their own little book before walking through the doors. He humored the guard and allowed him to lead him throughout the darkened hallway.

Really, as if he didn’t Know where he was going.

They came to a stop in front of a particular door and God allowed himself a tired sigh as he walked in, and sat down on the little metal chair the guard brought for him. He stared into tired, tearful blue eyes which now widened in shock at seeing him. She of course wouldn’t recognize him, as they had never met in this form before, but he had chosen this form to resemble his errant son. Ah, yes, there it was. Recognition flooded her eyes, replacing confusion and followed swiftly by fear and apprehension. As it should be. After all, it wasn’t everyday that God answered a prayer in such a direct way. 

God smiled kindly, though there was a glint of steel in his eyes. 

“Hello, my miracle. I believe you called for me?”

Chloe Decker stared God in the face and felt her stomach drop like a lead weight to the floor at her feet.

God smiled and settled back into his chair, tossing the Bible under his arm onto the cot next to her.

“It’s quite alright, take a moment to gather your thoughts. I’m aware my presence is hard for humans to handle. Even in a downgraded form like this one. I believe I’ve done quite well for myself for crafting this, if I do say so.”

Chloe swallowed and hesitantly rose her gaze to meet his, her hands trembled in her lap. She could work her way up to what she wanted. She had never… she had never actually expected Him to show up. “This… isn’t your true form?”

God laughed, “Oh no! How quaint. No, Miracle. I have no true form. I am a being of pure cosmic energy, this is merely an illusion I’ve crafted for myself while I walk on earth.”

Chloe nodded jerkily, her eyes blown wide as her mind struggled to accept the enormity of his words. “Like… like Lucifer’s t-true form?”

The smile slipped from God’s face like snow melting from a mountain top. The sheer ice that coated his next words were a knife to her heart.

“That is not my son’s ‘true form’ as you call it. My Children can manifest their strongest emotions to physical form, though they have no conscious control of it. What you saw was a manifestation of my sons’ guilt and pain for taking his first human life.” The look in God’s eyes made Chloe tremble anew. It was a look filled to the brim with reprimand and disappointment.

Chloe’s heart shriveled inside her chest, until it was a withered shadow of her past.

“I-I didn’t know—”

God waved a hand dismissively, interrupting her with little patience left. “No, you didn’t. Nor did you ask those with authority on the matter.”

Chloe bit her lip, staring down at her feet, curled up on the bed as she was. “I thought I did. I thought the people at the Vatican were the authority on… well on  _ You _ . I-I couldn’t reconcile the Devil and the Monster of the b-bible with the man, er, uh angel… I guess… that I’d come to know. I was just trying to get all the facts! It’s what I  _ do!... _ what I did…” She continued to look down at her feet, unable to meet the intimidating gaze of the man—  _ of God.  _ His gaze was like a physical weight. It felt like he was looking through her entire soul when he gazed at her.

Maybe he was…

God sighed through his nose, shaking his head.

“You’re still lying to yourself, Chloe Jane Decker. You say you were trying to find the truth from the authority on  _ Me _ , but the only ones who would know with accuracy are my Children. The men and women who clutch this,” he held up the Bible and shook it gently in the air between them. “Those humans read this and take what they want from it. The Catholic Church has been the powerhouse behind multiple genocides and crusades. All of that death and horror committed in  _ My name _ .”

He snorted, shaking his head with sorrow as his weary eyes fell again onto the small book in his hand. Chloe watched him, her gaze drawn up from the floor to stare at him in awe and dread. “Many churches do the same. Humans have the gift of Free Will, which means they can read  _ this _ , and take what they want. A man finds reasoning to beat his wife and call it discipline. The self righteous find the justification to condemn their fellows. Young children learn to fear and hate themselves for who they love.” God looked upon his miracle, an endless well of grief in his fathomless eyes. “The Judains were my chosen people in this book, yet how many of them perished because men in power decided they knew better?”

Chloe looked away, tears welling in her own eyes. The sheer  _ breadth  _ of grief… her mortal mind could not comprehend the pure  _ power  _ the emotion held. Her heart ached with every beat in her chest and she struggled to suppress the urge to sob, the pain lacing his words had a physical effect on her.

God seemed to realize this, shaking his head and the sorrow cleared, a shadow of the grief lingered in the weathered lines of his face. Chloe found she could breathe again without breaking into tears.

“Ah, forgive me. I’ve forgotten how sensitive you lot are to my words.” He waved a hand again, the last of his sorrow fading. “You let fear dictate your actions, and your choices have affected not just my wayward son. Your friends and family are being torn apart by grief, shame and anger. Your daughter is confused and hurt, struggling to understand how you could do something so vile.” God’s words were harsh, but his expression gentled as the woman in front of him bowed her head, tears falling from her eyes like rain drops onto the grey expanse beneath her.

God leaned forward and put a hand on her shoulder as the blonde woman wept.

Chloe rubbed at her eyes, hiccuping around the sobs caught in her throat. “I-I didn’t think… I was just… so worried he w-would hurt us! I didn’t know! I was s-scared for Trixie… for myself! How could there be s-so many stories and none of them be true?!” She looked up at him beseechingly, desperation in her eyes.

God sighed and moved to sit on the bed beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and allowing her to cry. To draw comfort from Him. “Some of them, are true. Or they have a kernel of truth in them that has been warped and twisted over time. You lot love yourselves a good villain. Like I said, men read that book and take what they want from it. Most I’ve seen use his Fall to force their children into obedience. Scarring their offspring into believing questioning authority leads to eternal damnation.” Again he shook his head, wondering at the folly of man.

Chloe bit her lip, feeling both oddly comforted and incredibly awkward to being consoled by literal God. The Father of the man she tried to kill… Her throat bobbed.

“I-if that’s true then… what really happened with L-Lucifer and his Fall?”

God hummed and gave her a last pat on the back, scooting away to give her some space as he sensed her unease replace grief. “He did in fact, start a rebellion. However I was in the middle of another fight with my wife and… well I believe your human therapists would call it displacement or something. I lashed out in anger at my son and cast him down. Lucifer deserved to be punished for leading his rebellion, but he had no designs to overthrow me.  _ That  _ is pure fiction on you humans. Can you even imagine my son ruling Heaven?” God topped his head back and laughed, a bright, booming laugh. “My Samael would go stir crazy in a week! He’d organize a rebellion against himself at that point!”

God shook his head, looking down at his miracle and feeling regret, that he could not completely quell his anger with her. He found his biggest regret though, was that she had made such poor choices to lead them here. If only she had asked these questions beforehand… then God would have had no need to intervene directly.

“I believe I’ve prattled on long enough, Chloe Decker. Tell me why you prayed to me?”

Chloe nodded jerkily, her arms tightening around her knees as she hugged herself.

“I… well I… don’t know much about religion, or You. But I’ve heard that… when p-people really repent their actions they, well, ask f-for Your forgiveness…”

God studied her carefully, the steel in his gaze returning as his warmth faded like a summer cloud. “Repentance begins with asking for forgiveness, yes. But that does not mean you’ll escape without Atonement as well. It is more than forgiveness you need. You still need to pay for your actions, as all creatures do.”

Chloe gulped and nodded stiffly, her gaze cast down to her feet once more.

“A-and I’m assuming I’m getting more than just this trial?...”

God only nodded, standing from the bed and collecting the Bible back, tucking it under his arm.

Chloe closed her eyes, breathing out and trying to calm her racing heart. 

“Wh-what’s going to happen to me?”

God looked upon her with pity, but resolute in his resolve. “Justice. I will see you again in a few years, a Chloe Jane Decker. You will know your fate when you see me next.” He paused as he made his way to the door, looking back at her and offering her one small mercy. “Beatrice will be well cared for, and she loves you still.”

Chloe broke, tears once again flooding her eyes as her mind switched to her little girl. Her arms tightened around her middle, aching for the days when she could feel her baby growing beneath her heart, longing to hold her baby in her arms again. The tears came faster as the image of Trixie in her mind grew clearer and yet more distant. Yet the hope and relief that flooded her at God’s reassurance eased a blackened corner of her heart that had filled with fear. She had been so afraid of what would happen to her little girl… 

She didn’t notice when God slipped from her cell door, walking down the corridor and back onto the L.A. streets. With his business with the blonde finished, God turned his mind to other matters. He needed to pop back up to the Silver City to quell any and all concerns from his other Children. Then head over and speak to Amenadiel and patch things up with him.

And maybe, if he got around to it, he’d begin searching through the multiverse to find his wayward Goddess. The least he owed her was a chat, with his full capabilities and not just a shadow of his power in a mortal vessel.

Content with his list, God walked the streets of L.A. humming a tune under his breath. He tossed the Bible into a nearby trash can and materialized more casual clothes for himself, glad to discard the priest's robes for more comfortable attire.

God looked upon the humans milling around him, and smiled.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I hope this chapter is just as enjoyable as the others, as YES. This is who Chloe prayed to. I imagined their conversation countless times and you know, I just don’t think God would express the same anger towards her as the others. He’s angry of course, but he also recognizes his own fault in the situation and Lucifer’s. So here. My take on how God would react to Chloe directly.


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